


Protecting the Poignant

by forlornTimekeeper



Series: Yourself Or Someone Like You [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 75,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4350485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornTimekeeper/pseuds/forlornTimekeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never bet on perfection, but you supposed it was the best you were going to get, and all things considered, it was more than literally anyone else. Of course, you also weren't ever going to allow yourself to believe that it'd last forever, but that didn't stop you from enjoying what had developed, fleeting as it may become. And aside from the ugly fights and cold occasional glares, you felt that you still had something to bring to the table, and that made things worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You sat in your modest little café, twirling a pencil in thought as you meandered around the shop. Currently you were ahead of schedule, which was good, it gave Seto one less thing he could bitch at you about. Still, if you could get the whole thing paid off before October, he might even be impressed. So you went about calculating numbers and making little notes as the afternoon rush came to a screeching halt.

 

Most of your customers were Kaiba Corp. employees, and that was only because your little café was _literally_ right across the street. It was within walking distance and that made it a desirable place for lunch. But lunch was over, everyone had gone back to work, and now your shop was all but empty. It was kind of nice though, giving you a few moments to let your mind wander.

 

It’d been nearly four months since the place had been open, and because of its location it immediately started doing well. Of course, that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that Seto practically advertised it _for_ you, and that was all right. The little novelty that sat on the counter also brought in people all by itself.

 

You really hadn’t been kidding, and neither had he. As promised he wrote you up a check and loaned you money to start your own café, and in return you got him a little ‘thank you’ gift. Much like the custom necklace Mokuba _still_ insisted on making you wear on dates, the coffee thermos had no equal, in price or appearance. It was, as promised, a diamond encrusted Blue-Eyes White Dragon mug, with sapphire eyes and a carved platinum finish. And it seemed to have caught the eye of small kid who had just come in with his mother.

 

“Good afternoon!” you greeted pleasantly, stepping behind the counter.

 

The boy instantly grasped the edge of the counter to hoist himself up and get a better look. His eyes widened in awe and he smiled broadly. “Mommy, Mommy look! It’s a Blue-Eyes mug! It’s so _cool_!”

 

His mother gave it a onceover before quirking a brow in your direction. “It looked like it cost you a small fortune,” she commented.

 

You nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s why it collects its own tips.”

 

Which was true. The glass case you kept it in had a hole in the top and people willingly put money inside, often pointing out the small plaque that read ‘Please Help Pay Me Off – I Was _Super_ Expensive!’. They generally got a kick out of it and happily tipped both the thermos and your employees, so it was a nice little gimmick.

 

As you started on the woman’s coffee the little boy had followed you back and forth along the counter, asking you questions which you answered happily. “So why do you have it anyway?”

 

This brought a smile to your lips. “Because I promised the person who helped me open my café that he’d have a special coffee mug.”

 

“Wow,” he breathed, staring back at the object of his amazement. “Gee, I wonder who it belongs to...”

 

“Actually, see that building across the street, the super tall one?” You pointed out through the windows.

 

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s Kaiba Corp.”

 

“Mhmm, and you know sits at the tippy top?”

 

His eyes widened further. “I sure do! That’s where Seto Kaiba lives!”

 

 _You have no idea, kid._ “It’s _his_ coffee cup.”

 

Now he was really excited. “ _Really_! That’s _awesome_! Does he ever use it?”

 

“Of course he does,” you mused, pulling the jeweled thermos from the display case, “I’m taking him coffee right now~”

 

He watched eagerly as you poured a perfected brew of coffee into the cup, tightly sealing the lid. As you hung your apron on the hook and carefully brought the mug with you, you smiled at him.

 

“Do you really get to take his coffee to him?” the boy asked. “I thought that was something that maybe... I don’t know, a secretary would do?”

 

You laughed a little as the two wandered out with you. “Yeah well, I guess ‘secretary’ and ‘girlfriend’ are kinda the same thing.” As you crossed the street and waved you could hear him shouting behind you, ‘You’re his _girlfriend_? That’s so _awesome_!’

 

He wasn’t entirely wrong, being Seto’s girlfriend had _loads_ of great perks. He’d given you a copy of his credit card, you got limo rides whenever you wanted them, your house was huge, and Seto could get anything for you that you, for whatever reason, couldn’t get yourself. _And_ he let you beta test video games.

 

However, that didn’t mean that there hadn’t been downfalls. Sure, the first month and half was riddled with arguments and a few _good_ fights, as rules and boundaries needed to be made and adjusted. It’d been painful, you cried a lot and thought on multiple occasions that it was over. But he was just as stubborn as you were to get over things and move on, and soon you figured out how to really _read_ him. There was a very specific set of Seto Kaiba language, which varied depending on who he was interacting with, which also included you. He had his own language for communicating with you and it’d taken months’ worth of time and countless arguments to figure out. So yeah, there were some bad things, too.

 

But after the two of you had moved past that, things got better, and once the emotional connection was fully established you went to work on the physical one. _That_ had been tricky. You understood that Seto simply didn’t have much experience in having any type of physical relationship with someone, including Mokuba. He wasn’t really _against_ affection, giving or receiving, and was just as willing to kiss you in public as he was at home. But it became very obvious early on that he didn’t really handle _intimacy_ like he did affection. Sex had definitely been an odd barrier to get around, and not to mention horridly awkward, but once you’d done that it became easy and fun, and something you both looked forward to whenever the moment struck.

 

“Why is your face all red?”

 

You blinked wildly and shifted your eyes around, turning your head to look at Kim. Had she said hello to you? How long had you been standing in Seto’s office? What were you here for again? _Oh right, coffee._ “I guess I just... was thinking.” You set the thermos on his desk and pulled yourself from your confusion. “How’s work?”

 

“Do you really have to ask?” He looked up from his laptop, which was set awkwardly off to the side to accommodate a mess of papers that took up a fair portion of his desk. His eyes peered at you from under his eyelashes as the corners of his mouth turned slightly.

 

Anyone else definitely would’ve assumed he was being serious, and his stare would most likely have had them nervous. But you’d figured out by now it was his way of being funny, because he generally enjoyed what he did, as stressful as it was, and he’d learned to adapt his own weird kind of sarcasm.

 

Naturally you waved him off with a smile, perching on his desk to watch him work. He didn’t usually mind, only when he was _really_ busy, and you could easily tell when that was. So he remained quiet and went about his business, going back and forth between the papers and a list of e-mails you could vaguely make out on his laptop. Truthfully he spent most of his time communicating with people, but you’d learned that that was mentally taxing and never once teased him for not doing any ‘real work’.

 

“You’re not staying late again, are you?” you asked, getting tired of the expanding silence.

 

He sighed and made a face, reaching for his coffee. “I might have to, this turned out to be far more time consuming that it should have.”

 

“Do you know whose fault it was?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you fire them?”

 

“You’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”

 

He seemed to be in fairly okay spirits today, actually taking the time to be funny. He was also right though, when people fucked up and turned things into cumbersome projects it took away time that Seto could be spending with you rather than at work. So yes, you generally liked to know that they got fired.

 

Was it petty? Oh _yeah_. Did you really care? Not particularly. He fired people on whims just for waking up on the wrong side of the bed, at least you liked people getting fired for legitimately doing something wrong. It was _completely_ justified as far as you were concerned.

 

Finally you slid back onto your feet, smoothing out your work pants as he habitually leaned over for his goodbye kiss. As you left his office and went back to your own job, you smiled pleasantly to yourself. You liked days like these; work was easy, people were nice, and your boyfriend wasn’t acting like the egotistical tyrant you knew he still could be.

 

You _lived_ for days like these.


	2. Chapter 2

You’d be kidding yourself if you ever alluded to the idea that things were always easy, because they most certainly were not. It was hard being with someone who scarcely had time for his own brother, and aside from the guilt you felt taking away from _that_ , Seto Kaiba simply wasn’t and never would be the overly charming, romantic savior of your heart that you still pondered over as being something you still might want.

 

Currently, you were in the living room, which had turned out to be an entirely different room than the one you sat in the first time you ever entered the house. This room was far cozier, the furniture plush and comfortable, the colors warm and inviting, and the atmosphere one of _home_.

 

Unfortunately, it was still summer, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to make use of the fireplace yet. But you certainly had plans for the winter. Until then, the TV and fleece blanket would provide enough comfort while you waited for Seto to get home.

 

_If he comes home, that is._

 

You were tired, it was late, and you preferred to go to bed with him rather than have him come in and wake you up. So you curled up in the living room and listened to the white noise, chastising yourself even as you let your mind wander.

 

When you were in a certain mood, generally along the lines of ‘I feel really alone I want him to be home already so I’m not tempted to start feeling pointlessly sorry for myself for no reason’, your thoughts drifted back to the times that the two of you had fought so often.

 

And one always stuck out.

 

You had been excited to celebrate Mokuba’s birthday with him, and had lots of ideas in case he hadn’t come up with anything. You were going to show him just how important he was to you, and dammit Kaiba was going to cooperate. Because he’d pissed you off and you’d reverted back to using his last name even though you knew it _really_ got under his skin.

 

But a few days before the 7th of July, things got out of hand and began to fall apart. Kaiba was spending more and more time at work, and it had gotten to the point where you and Mokuba might go more than a day without seeing him unless you went to his office, which simply wasn’t a luxury you could bank on every day. So, late one night, as he came in through the kitchen – where you’d been waiting – you confronted him about it.

 

Truthfully, you hadn’t ever intended to raise your voice, you just wanted to voice your concern and let him know that he really needed to be spending time with Mokuba. But rather than opting to listen to your explanation he gave you attitude about the whole thing and left you alone with a snide comment.

 

The fact that it was so uncalled for initially had just hurt your feelings, but after you cried a little you became angry with him, and calling him out on his behavior had just made the entire situation come unraveled. It started with him not spending time with Mokuba and had then proceeded to turn into whether or not he’d ever really have time for _you_.

 

You were sure his ego was the reigning factor that drove along his end of the argument, probably thinking something along the lines of ‘of course I have time for her, she’s stupid for thinking otherwise’. But instead of showing you that he was right, he spent his rare hours at home locked in a study, brooding.

 

After a few days you stopped being concerned with how you felt, and turned all of your attention to Mokuba, trying to make him understand what was going on. The whole thing had gotten to him, and you tried desperately to salvage his mood.

 

‘ _Have you figured out what you want for your birthday?_ ’ you had asked, sitting on his bed with him after you’d caught him sulking.

 

He’d turned to you painfully, his eyes tired and worn. ‘ _I want a plane ticket._ ’

 

‘ _Where to?_ ’

 

‘ _Anywhere but here!_ ’ He had obviously caught the hurt in your eyes, and quickly explained himself. ‘ _I’m tired of listening to him yell at you! He’s so egotistical that he can’t even admit when he’s wrong, and I’m tired of it!_ ’

 

It was true, Kaiba was egotistical and that marred his ability to admit his faults and wrongdoings. It just hurt that you had to hear it come from Mokuba’s mouth rather than your own.

 

But you had complied, and bought him a plane ticket so that could spend a week in Hawaii and away from the fighting at home. Kaiba didn’t find out until the night Mokuba left, having come home late to find you in the kitchen looking through the pictures that his brother had sent you of his first day.

 

‘ _What are you doing?_ ’ he had demanded, almost as if to accuse you.

 

Rather than answer you found a picture to send to him, watching for the look of confusion on his face.

 

‘ _Where’s Mokuba?_ ’

 

‘ _In Hawaii_.’

 

‘ _What the hell is he doing there?_ ’

 

‘ _That’s what he wanted for his birthday._ ’

 

‘ _By himself?_ ’

 

‘ _Just away from here._ ’

 

‘ _What are you talking about?_ ’

 

You never repeated to him what Mokuba had said to you, simply saying that if he wanted a more specific answer than he’d have to ask Mokuba himself. You continued to sleep in a guest bedroom for the next three nights. Kaiba didn’t speak to you.

 

Three days before Mokuba was scheduled to come home, you waited in the kitchen again, a hot cup of coffee sitting next to your hands as you stared at the postcard he’d sent you. When Kaiba came in, at nearly one in the morning, you couldn’t help but smile when he asked what you were looking at. Mokuba was smiling in the picture and that made you smile, too.

 

But it only irritated Kaiba, and he grew edgy with you until you dropped your smile.

 

Ignoring anything he had said previously, you simply replied with ‘ _I promised him that this would be over by the time he came back home. Don’t make a liar out of me._ ’ And then you left and went to bed.

 

You had promised Mokuba, partially only because you wanted it to be true rather than having the full ability to make it true. But somehow you have a way with words and manipulation that forces Kaiba to _think_. And when he thinks, laying down in his bed with arms outstretched, he sets everything aside but the truth, even to himself.

 

Two nights later Kaiba came home exactly when he had said, at eight, and found you curled up with a book in the small library. He sat down on the bench, found your bookmark, and gently took the book from your hands and placed it off to the side. The two of you talked for an hour and a half before he carried you to the bedroom.

 

As awful as it had been, the two of you resolved things, and Mokuba came back to a happy household as promised.

 

Suddenly you were jarred from your memories as you heard the loud side door in the kitchen open and close. It might have been almost midnight, but Seto was home and you could finally go to bed. He found you quickly and you greeted him with a contented smile as he asked what you’d been doing.

 

“Mostly thinking too much.”

 

He knew what that meant, and easily gathered you in his arms to carry you upstairs to bed, quietly answering your questions about his day. After laying you on the bed and turning down the covers, he milled around in the closet to change out of his suit before disappearing into the bathroom for another few minutes. Then he turned the lights off and shut down the house, carefully sliding into bed with you in case you’d fallen asleep.

 

Tiredly, albeit eagerly, you crawled into his arms and snuggled up to him, letting him tuck you against his chest so you could fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. You weren’t awake for very much longer, but you had time to appreciate not having been quite so happy in such a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

When you awoke the next morning Seto was gone, and in the place of himself he left a small note tied to a short cut rose. Reaching over you pulled the flower to you and scanned his neat handwriting.

 

_I won’t be home tonight or in my office, but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. I promise._

_– SK_

 

You knew exactly what _that_ meant, and for a moment you clenched your legs together pleasantly before the feeling faded. You looked at the small flower, cradled in your hands, and was reminded of why he left them to you in the first place, making your heart clench.

 

They’d been a result of a particularly nasty fight, but rather than yell and make noise all the time, you two said your peace about how you felt and settled for subtly acting out, mostly for Mokuba’s sake. You felt second rate to his company, and were hurt that he treated you so distantly. He felt that he was doing his job and running his company, and that you were making up impossible expectations.

 

Of course, that had been an excuse that even _he_ didn’t believe, and after offhandedly saying something that he _watched_ shatter you on the inside, he came clean. The healing process was long, and arguably was still going on, but he stopped making excuses and turned them into time he spent with you. It was one of those things that he’d feel guilty for for a _long_ time, and it would surface in his mind to keep him in check.

 

So on the occasions that he knew he’d go more than a day without seeing you, he left you something of himself instead. Also, he generally left a shirt and pair of boxers lying around which he knew you put to use and wore around the house. It was oddly comforting, especially with fresh tea you made with the flowers he left.

 

Working kept your mind busy as well, and helped the day go by as you eagerly waited to see him again. In the meantime, you just smiled at the response he sent in the middle of the day to your early morning text. He didn’t used to respond to them, so now you appreciated every single one.

 

When you got home you gave the staff something to cook for dinner, then changed into something more comfortable before setting off to search for Mokuba. After finding him in the arcade you caved to his begging and joined him as the two of you waited for dinner to be ready.

 

It was a beta version Seto had brought home for the two of you, and when he couldn’t join himself, he asked for notes to be taken that he could send back to game development. When you met him you really hadn’t assumed that he actually played his own games much, but after living with him you’d found him in the game room late at night almost as often as in the study.

 

You and Mokuba made some progress, and at least a page worth of notes both good and bad, before you were summoned by the butler for dinner. The two of you ate mostly in silence, as Mokuba tended to inhale food rather than really chew it. When he was done he looked at you and posed his usual question.

 

“Hey, do you know when Seto’s going to be home?”

 

You swallowed and answered. “Tomorrow night.”

 

Mokuba groaned childishly. “That’s lame. Are you working tomorrow?”

 

“No, do you want to do something?” You were _always_ willing to entertain Mokuba, even if you didn’t necessarily like what he wanted to do.

 

He grinned and you internally cringed at what he had in mind. “Can we go to Kaiba Land, _please_?”

 

_Oh God, why._ “If that’s what you want,” you agreed, not bothering to hide the disdain from your voice. Of all the things he could’ve asked to do, it just _had_ to be that. But you weren’t about to turn him down and risk losing the smile on his face.

 

And so, the next morning you found yourself at the front gates of Kaiba Land, where you and Mokuba presented your all level security passes and bypassed the line. While he took a moment to retie his shoes you looked around and shook your head.

 

It was bad enough that Seto hadn’t been creative enough to come up with something _other_ than ‘Kaiba Land’, when you could’ve come up with half a dozen names on the spot. But _Jesus_ you still had a hard time believing that the Kaiba Corp. CEO, who had a notorious stick shoved up his ass most of the time, actually _built_ the place. It looked like every child’s dream, which was the point, but you knew that specifically, it was catered to the child that Seto Kaiba used to be, and it amazed you that somewhere inside him, that still existed.

 

It was just... not something you could put words to. Yes, his obsession with the Blue-Eyes White Dragon was _very_ evident, and this place embodied that perfectly. _But shit, he’s a grown ass man, and how does he run something so pleasant if he’s always so temperamental?_

 

“Okay, what should we do first?” Mokuba appeared by your side, looking ready to start the festivities.

 

You looked around in bewilderment, not really sure where to begin. “I have _no_ idea.”

 

At first he just let your words sink in, then squinted at you testingly. “Have you ever been here before?”

 

Truthfully, you’d avoided the place, and avoided your lack of involvement with it _especially_ after you and Seto got together, mostly out of fear that either or both of them would think it treacherous and put you in the position you were currently in. So the answer was no, but you didn’t have to say anything, your silence did that for you.

 

“Oh my _God_ , are you serious?” He was met with only a sheepish grimace. “Okay so, then we just do everything and you’ll keep up.”

 

You wanted to protest, to shake your head and run back to the car and go home. And it wasn’t even because you didn’t like theme parks, you _loved_ theme parks. But your boyfriend’s questionable obsession with dragons was everywhere and it was almost laughable and you simply couldn’t take any of it seriously and you were absolutely sure you’d end up hurting his feelings at some point or another.

 

But Mokuba would have none of it, and simply drug you around and put you on every ride there was. You actually ended up really liking the Blue-Eyes Jet Coaster, and prompted to ride that one another time or two, much to Mokuba’s delight. Otherwise, you just couldn’t get over the saturation of the dragons, the puns alone were enough to _kill_ you.

 

Eventually the two of you made your way around towards the back, and you spotted a building that struck your interest. “Mokuba, what _is_ that?”

 

He followed the point of your finger and his face lit up. “It’s my CapMon building! We should totally play!”

 

You felt guilty as you had _no_ idea as to what he was talking about. But you followed anyway, ignoring the looks you got as girls grew excited to see Mokuba but frowned as they encountered you. You weren’t there for their approval, you were there to entertain Mokuba, so you waved them off and let him guide you to an open table.

 

After some explanation, the two of you engaged in a few games of Capsule Monster Chess, though you weren’t even that great at regular chess, so you figured the one time you did win, he was just taking pity on you. Eventually, the crowd that had surrounded the two of you began to make you uncomfortable, and once he noticed he offered lunch.

 

Theme park food was never as good as fair food, but in comparison to other parks, it was _way_ better. You left the food court full and happy, and waited to continue following the other. As you passed by a rather ostentatious building, he paused and looked at you.

 

“Do you play Duel Monsters?” he asked curiously, looking as if he were debating on whether or not to go inside.

 

You crossed your arms and frowned. “Nope.”

 

He didn’t seem to believe you. “You sure? You’ve _never_ played before?”

 

Here you hesitated, and that gave you away. But damn it if you didn’t like lying to his face.

 

“So you have played!” he exclaimed, practically shoving you inside. “Don’t worry, I’m not quite as good at this,” he reassured, weaving around people as he smiled at their proclamations of who he was.

 

You found yourself in an open designated space as Mokuba eagerly gave you a Duel Disk and took his place on his side of the field. Again, a crowd began to collate around the two of you, and you sighed.

 

“I punched in Seto’s password to the system, so there aren’t any card restrictions, and if you want you can use premade decks rather than building one,” he explained, already having chosen his as his name and his personal deck was announced by the system.

 

In order to save time you opted for one already made, smiling as Mokuba’s eyes widened after the omniscient voice announced his brother’s name and his own deck. You’d seen Seto duel with it before, it couldn’t really be _that_ hard.

 

“His deck is kinda advanced, you know. Are you sure?”

 

You only nodded in response and the two of you got started, each with 4000 Life Points and five cards in your hand. Mokuba let you go first and you drew, playing one card face down and putting a monster in defense position. He countered much the same way, and the two of you went about the duel experimentally, testing each other.

 

Originally, you weren’t going to try anything fancy, but as soon he began mouthing off with smack talk, you just decided lay waste to him. You had one ‘White Stone of Legend’ already face down on the field, which Mokuba attacked immediately, activating its effect to put one ‘Blue-Eyes White Dragon’ from your deck into your hand. Then, you played ‘Kaibaman’ – after sniggering to yourself mercilessly – in order to tribute him to summon one ‘Blue-Eyes’ to the field. Then, in your second phase, you equipped your ‘Lord of D.’ with the ‘Flue of Summoning Dragon’ and put your other two ‘Blue-Eyes’ on the field, leaving your hand empty.

 

Mokuba, along with the rest of the crowd, gawked and gasped at your flawless play, which, admittedly, was _exceptionally_ lucky. But either way, you gracefully took the remainder of his Life Points on your next turn, winning you the duel.

 

He deflated at having his ass handed to him by his own brother’s deck while in the hand of his girlfriend. But he accepted defeat and admitted that you’d played well, given that you were using a deck no one else had ever used before.

 

Through the muffled whispers and confusion there came a loud clap, and you looked over to find Seto standing off to the side with a pair of guards, a smirk set firmly on his lips.

 

“That’s my girl.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter consists of multiple sexual references, but isn't NSFW. That's for the next chapter.

You blushed furiously as you’d been caught, eyes wide and full of ‘oh shit how did I let this happen’. But you remained still as Seto approached you, looking slyly over to his brother before addressing you.

 

“You never told me you dueled.”

 

With a groan you slid the Duel Disk off and tucked it under your arm. “That’s because I _don’t_. I just know how to play because I babysat cousins that were fanatics.” And that was true, you had when you were growing up, and they’d taught you how to duel. It had very quickly become a way for you to settle arguments with them, so naturally you had to somehow become a better duelist than all three of them. It made babysitting a _lot_ easier.

 

That being said, you’d rarely ever played against anyone else, so you when people asked if you dueled you told them no. Of course, the look Seto was giving you made it very apparent that he didn’t think the same way.

 

“That doesn’t explain why you were able to successfully strategize with my deck.”

 

_Dammit, why do you have to keep calling me out!_ “It wasn’t really all that difficult, and I got lucky anyway. Besides, when you’re playing against a bunch of ten-year-olds that can’t afford rare cards, you end up having more handmade cards than real ones.” Also true, and somewhere you still had a few that you’d kept and you knew that one of your cousins still had the dragon deck you’d made for him, which consisted of its own set of ‘Blue-Eyes’ and few other cards you’d been familiar with as you came across them while using Seto’s deck.

 

Again, you _still_ didn’t consider yourself a duelist, and you would rather Seto not act like you were just because you got lucky _once_. And he just so happened to be watching. “Why are you here, anyway?”

 

He rested his hands on his hips as his stare passed over the crowed and quietly _persuaded_ them to leave. “I told you I wasn’t going to be in my office, I’m here on business.”

 

You scoffed, handing over the Duel Disk to Mokuba as he approached. “Oh _really_? And what business would that be?”

 

“I’m overlooking construction.”

 

That made sense, you did remember passing by a section that had been walled off for such a reason. “Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

You supposed that was to be expected, now that he _knew_ you’d been to Kaiba Land, all of its secrets were now to be kept from you as well. “Well just don’t get too caught up in business, you _owe_ me tonight, remember?”

 

He hummed thoughtfully. “I made that promise because I was assuming I wasn’t going to run into to you today. But since I did –“

 

“Oh please, you and I both know you don’t break _those_ promises.” You gave him a playful smile as Mokuba made a small noise of disgust.

 

As his guards prompted to get him moving, Seto leaned in to kiss you openly on the mouth in front of the lingering mass of people. And before he turned to leave he brought his lips to your ear and whispered, “ _Don’t forget to take your birth control._ ”

 

As he was leaving Mokuba scrunched his face and whined. “You might want to think about _getting a room next time_!”

 

You slapped him lightly on the arm and ordered him to lead you back to the food court, ignoring his comments and the handful of girls nearly in tears that glared daggers at you as you passed by.

 

“You know he does that just to piss them off, right?” Mokuba walked in step with you, eyeing you with amusement.

 

With a roll of your eyes you folded your arms across your chest. “Well _yeah_ , because he knows _I’d_ end up making a scene screaming at them to piss off. And since I’m on his turf I’m sure he wouldn’t exactly appreciate it.”

 

Mokuba shook his head to himself, smiling. “I hope you know that, at this point, I’m convinced he can’t do better than you.”

 

The smile was genuine, and you knew Mokuba’s comment was, too. When he wanted to be a sweetheart he pulled it off wonderfully. But he was also just as good at being an obnoxious _child_.

 

You’d sent him off to get you a bottle of water after you found a place to sit down, and when he got back you were rolling a tiny pill between your fingers. The face he made as you washed it down almost made you choke.

 

“ _Really_?” he whined, scowling at you. “Do you _have_ to take that thing in front of me?”

 

Once you’d downed half the bottle you gave him the rest. “Oh, what? Are you _offended_?”

 

“ _Yes I’m offended_!”

 

“Oh _grow up_ , Mokuba,” you chided, leaning back in your chair.

 

He huffed. “You’re practically shoving in my face that you and my brother _do_ things!”

 

Your arms dropped to your sides as you stared at him. “Wasn’t it your plan to get us together from the beginning? Isn’t this what you _wanted_?”

 

Mokuba narrowed his eyes, leaning in close so other people wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, I wanted him to be with someone that would keep his shit attitude in check. But I don’t need to be reminded of it at _3am_!”

 

With a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth, trying to keep it under control. “We’re not _that_ loud,” you argued, still smiling.

 

“You’re walls aren’t exactly _sound proof_. Do you have _any_ idea what it’s like? Thanks to _you_ , I know what he sounds like when he has an orgasm. _That’s a reality that I have to live with every day and it’s weird_!” He was almost fuming at this point, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and his hands flat on the table.

 

However, you were now trying twice as hard to keep your laughter at bay. “Mokuba, it was _one_ time.”

 

“ _Once was enough_.”

 

You sighed, calming yourself, before leaning in and mimicking his posture. “You remember that blonde you had over after you got back from Hawaii?”

 

Mokuba squinted in response, silently growling under his breath.

 

“I _wish_ you could’ve seen his face after she screamed ‘ _Mokie_ ’, I’d never seen him so flustered. And now we _both_ have to deal with _that_.” You could tell by the way Mokuba’s eyebrows knotted together that he’d been just as embarrassed when it’d happened. The morning after had been _really_ awkward. Seto had made it very clear that he didn’t want her over again.

 

Finally Mokuba sat back, glaring at you coldly. “So I guess this means I’m sleeping in the theater room tonight?”

 

You thought for a moment, recalling the last time you were in that room... on the lounge bed. “Oh _shit_ , we never told the maids to wash the sheets...”

 

“ _Oh come on_!” Mokuba flung his hands in the air dramatically.

 

“I’m _kidding_!” you giggled, smiling at he continued to scowl at you.

 

The rest of the day consisted of bad sex jokes and dragon puns, and eventually you’d ended up feeling more embarrassed than Mokuba and demanded to go back home. The two of you had agreed to keep the conversation between yourselves, figuring that what Seto didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

 

Besides, he’d be too busy to talk much once he got home to you, anyhow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW, if you are uncomfortable with reading such then you may skip it, you won't lose any plot points. Otherwise, enjoy!

When Seto came home you were upstairs sprawled on the bed with a book in your hands, which you hadn’t _really_ been reading, you’d been on the same page for the past half an hour. So as soon as he pushed open the bedroom door you casually tossed the book aside and propped your head in your hands.

 

Quietly, you watched him undress, letting your eyes roam as he slipped out of his jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt. After a moment he disappeared into the depths of his closet and you frowned at not being able to continue watching.  When he exited a minute later your smile returned, and your eyes followed him as he returned to his briefcase and pulled something out that you couldn’t see. You appreciated the way the waistband of his briefs hugged his hipbones, and oh how you wanted to slips your fingers underneath and –

 

“Here.”

 

You blinked and looked down, scowling at the obvious deck of cards that had been placed on the bed under your nose. “What are these for?”

 

Seto pulled the comforter taut and joined you on the bed with another deck in his hand, smirking at your blatant confusion. “Tonight, we’re going to play a game.”

 

As you sat up you shuffled through the cards he’d given you, not understanding what he was getting at. “I thought we were –“

 

“Oh we are,” he assured, shuffling his own cards. “I have every intention of getting you naked.”

 

It took you a few seconds, looking between the cards in your hands and the smirk on his lips, before you began to understand. “Are you actually proposing a game of strip duel monsters?”

 

He fanned out the cards in his hand and nodded for you to take your turn. You drew a card and looked them over, placing two trap cards and monster. “You know, you’re _entirely_ underdressed for the occasion.”

 

“You might be better prepared to lose more life points, but I assure you, you _won’t_ win this duel.” His confidence still seeped through his pores, and you caught the flicker of youthful passion in his eyes.

 

And as cute as that was, it didn’t make it any easier for you to win. “So I’m assuming for every x-amount of life points we lose, an article of clothing goes with them?” He nodded, playing his turn. “So then, since I know we’ll _both_ end up naked eventually, what’s the motivation for winning?”

 

Here he displayed a magic card so you’d understand his play before answering your question. “The winner decides what happens after the duel is over, so if you were in the mood for something specific, you better not hold back.”

 

Seto was only in his underwear, and you at least had a shirt and a pair of shorts covering your body. But you weren’t about to deceive yourself into thinking that you had _any_ chance of winning. “You’ve probably rigged the decks to make sure I lose, haven’t you?”

 

He was silent until you finished your turn. “These decks are absolutely identical, and offer multiple strategies. I’m just curious to see how well you can manipulate your strategy.” He drew and surveyed the field, adjusting a card as the dents in the blanket made for an unsavory playing surface. “You can learn a lot from dueling someone.”

 

For a few minutes you went along with the duel, thinking that maybe you had a chance. Until you lost 1000 life points and had to remove your shorts. You didn’t expect to get anywhere without losing at least a little bit, but all you had to do was get him out of his briefs to win. Of course, you had no idea why you’d expected it to be easier than he was making it, and by the time you were out of a shirt he was only down 400.

 

After another ten minutes your panties joined the tiny pile on the floor and you groaned. It wasn’t like he’d tried distracting you, his eyes were either on his cards or your face, so you only had your own lack of skills to blame.

 

With a smile, Seto gathered the cards and set them on the bedside table, turning out the lamp to remove the only light source in the room. “Lay down,” he ordered softly, gently guiding you onto your stomach with your arms stretched out to your sides.

 

You weren’t exactly worried about what he had in mind, he’d never done anything you didn’t like. But the simple fact that you didn’t know had you a little excited, there were plenty of sexual possibilities that the two of you hadn’t tried. So for the moment, you relaxed and sighed as his hands trailed down your back and gingerly worked your muscles.

 

Another sigh escaped your lips as his fingertips slipped underneath you and pressed into your hips, making you arch into him as he ground into your butt. His hands ghosted back up to your shoulders where they rested after pulling aside your hair, and you felt his breath against your skin. A shudder rolled through your shoulders as his tongue slid along the back of your neck and settled in the curve of your shoulder. He nipped at your skin lightly, moving one hand back underneath you to rest between your legs, the other to grab a fistful of your hair and pull.

 

As you opened yourself to him his teeth bit into your skin and his fingers rubbed circles between your legs. Each time you arched into him he pressed back with twice as much force, smiling into your skin when you whined. It was blissful torture, the way he had your legs trapped with his own, but was still able to work his fingers between your thighs. And you had been so close when he pulled away.

 

He’d left you panting and needy, removing himself and turning you to face him on your side. His hands dove into your hair as he forced his tongue between your lips, humming into your mouth as your own hands ghosted along his stomach. Your fingertips slipped beneath the cloth and you listened intently as you pressed your nails into his skin and guided them along the dip of his hips, leaving light scratches in their wake. He sucked in a breath, lightly hissing before settling into a low growl and hastily matching your state of undress.

 

His kisses were rough and demanding, and your hands were equally the opposite, teasing with feather light touches. It was only a short minute before he’d taken that privilege away from you, grabbing both of your hands by the wrists and forcing them above your head. In a swift, graceful movement he was between your legs and had them sprawled over his hips, his unoccupied hand snaking underneath you.

 

The trust was swift and accurate, angled just right and oh _so deep_. You cried and arched off the bed, grinding your hips against his own as your legs quivered. There was no pause between the first and the next, and his thrusts grew steady and fulfilling as he bent over and pulled one of your nipples between his lips.  


Seto was vigorous and rough, but always tantalizingly so, and you were soon begging ‘faster’, ‘deeper’, ‘harder’, ‘Seto _please_ ’. But all of your requests went unfulfilled, replied to with only another fresh bruise for every pointless plea. He knew, he could _feel_ how close you were, and he kept his pace even and unchanged, growling as he felt you start to contract, than shoved you back against the bed and left you empty.

 

It wasn’t something he’d ever done, and for a moment you were afraid that he was pushing you away. But as soon as you opened your mouth to speak he silenced you with a deft hand, leaning in close to whisper, “I’m not done with you yet.”

 

As swift as he was he was also gentle, and suddenly your face was buried into the sheets and he was behind you, looming with promise. He kept his hand over your mouth and used the other to set the angle of your hips before picking up where he’d left off. And it was a good thing he was keeping you quiet, your screams fought to slip between his fingers, and you were sure you could’ve woken the whole house with the way you were crying.

 

But dammit it if it didn’t feel good, and _God please don’t stop this time I’m gonna – !_

 

And again the feeling was taken from you, with only a vengeful quivering left between your legs. _This is new..._ You knew what he was doing now, and as soon as you’d figured it out the whole thing just continued to turn you on. Which was fine, as long as he planned on finishing you _eventually._

 

You didn’t fight him as he moved you again, onto your side with your legs curled enough to let him press into you. He never once hesitated, and soon you were reduced to begging and crying all over again as he pulled you roughly against him to meet his every thrust. The minutes ticked by and made no difference to either of you, as the only important thing became each of you to the other, and you were sure this time he wouldn’t stop short.

 

Your fingers clutched the sheets beneath you as the feeling changed, he finally answered your pleas and drove as hard and as deep as you had begged of him, panting against your skin as his desperation took over. Within the next few precious seconds you convulsed and writhed against him, gasping as the peak of your orgasm faded and pulsed thickly through your veins. But even as you relaxed and felt yourself grow tired, you were still aware of his following close behind, and with every small gasp you felt a pulse and a growing warmth.

 

The haze settled in quickly afterwards, and just as he nestled you protectively against him, you were already falling asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

You’d slept thoroughly that night and only woke up with a slight soreness radiating along your upper thighs. Of course, you weren’t bothered by it, the reason had been far more than worth it, and you smiled to yourself as you pulled on a pair of shorts and a camisole. Though, as soon as you set foot out of the bedroom there was a sudden leaking feeling between your legs, and you immediately stopped in the bathroom before continuing downstairs to the kitchen, your cheeks still slightly burning.

 

On your way there you passed a handful of maids as they went about their morning cleaning routine, each one taking one look at you and averting their eyes almost immediately. _I probably have sex hair... Oh well._ You found both of the boys sitting at the island with coffee in their hands, talking back and forth about something that seemed awfully boring.

 

“Good morning~” you greeted, smiling affectionately as you walked in.

 

Mokuba nearly threw his cup back onto the counter and covered his mouth, coughing behind his hand. Seto rolled his eyes and shook his head, passing his eyes over you before going back to his coffee.

 

You looked between them with surprise, not understanding what Mokuba was having a fit over. “I don’t get it, what’s wrong?”

 

The younger Kaiba glared at his brother, then trained his eyes on you. “Gee, have you _looked_ in the mirror this morning?” He didn’t look like he’d slept all that well, as was evident in his righteous attitude.

 

_Oh come on, my hair can’t be_ that _bad._ Your fingers ran through your disheveled locks, trying to comb out what didn’t feel to be all that messy to begin with.

 

Seto shook his head again. “Your hair’s fine. Try a little lower.”

 

It took you a moment, but the ‘oh shit’ look came to pass across your face as your hands dropped around your neck. “How bad is it?”

 

“Move your hands and turn around.”

 

You sheepishly did as instructed, cringing as you waited for an answer.

 

“Fifteen.”

 

Well no wonder the maids were looking at you funny, you had _fifteen_ little purple hickeys peppered all over your skin, which also accounted for Mokuba’s outburst. You’d probably kept him up with your attempted screaming and whining.

 

You quietly shuffled around the kitchen and made your own cup of coffee, awkwardly joining the other two at the island where they were just staring at each other, silently arguing. You’d seen this go on enough times to figure out what was going on, Mokuba was complaining that his brother was so flippant and inconsiderate with his sex life, and Seto was arguing that he should just grow up and move out if it bothered him so much. Which wasn’t serious, it was an offhanded remark he’d made before and in no way intended to actually kick his brother out.

 

But the two were familiar with brotherly banter, and so you’d become familiar with it, too. However, rather than participate, you always kept to yourself and settled for watching. Eventually it turned verbal.

 

“You know,” Mokuba finally said, “It really wouldn’t be that big of a deal if you didn’t always drive away the girls I tried to get close to. And you _never_ let me bring them home because you don’t want to hear what _I_ had to hear last night!”

 

_Oh fuck not this again._

 

“Mokuba you’re being –“

 

“If you say ‘ridiculous’ I’m gonna – !”

 

“Go ahead and –“

 

“Try? Are you sure? Because you know I –“

 

“ _You won’t do a damn thing._ ”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

You’d had plenty. “ _Shut up! Both of you!_ ” They both immediately clammed up and glared in a direction that wasn’t yours. “Mokuba, I’m sorry we kept you up, but stop being pissy about it.”

 

He sighed a nodded, staring into his cup.

 

“Seto, stop being an asshole. He’s right and you know it.”

 

As he opened his mouth to protest you covered it with your palm. “I _will_ fight you, you’re acting like just as much of a child as he is.”

 

Mokuba removed himself from the house to be alone and do weird teenager things, Seto went to work without offering a timeframe for when he’d be home, and you were left to your own devices. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, if you were at all used to being in the house by yourself. And you were not.

 

So you spent a few hours bouncing between rooms, taking a long soak in the tub after sitting in the hot tub outside, holing up in the library for a little while, rolling all over the game room, and getting halfway through a movie before you just couldn’t fucking stand it anymore. The silence was horrid, but you weren’t about to try and take away from Mokuba’s opportunity to brood and be an angsty teenager, so you decided to pop into your café and mill about.

 

“I thought you had today off?”

 

Tina was an absolute sweetheart and you couldn’t have been happier that you’d hired her, she usually kept you going when you were at your wit’s end. So of course she was always looking out for you, and was always able to put some kind of smile on your face.

 

You sighed and dropped onto a stool behind the counter. “Yeah, but no one’s home, and I got bored.”

 

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You got _bored_ in the Kaiba mansion?”

 

With a roll of your eyes you heaved yourself back onto your feet. “Trust me, it’s not that hard.” You began to prepare a small pot of coffee for Seto, giving the thermos a rinse and counting the tips as you waited. The café was pretty quiet, the lunch breaks hadn’t started yet, but you could spot a few Kaiba Corp. employees, especially as they eyed you curiously on your way out.

 

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that you and Seto were together, the press hadn’t gotten ahold of it yet so the tabloids have been pretty scarce with his dealings ever since the whole thing became official. But the employees were able to tell that at least something was going on, apparently Seto didn’t go off on rampages and firing sprees as often anymore, which was a good thing. Also, the fact that you delivered him coffee almost every day didn’t fly over everyone’s head either, and some people started to talk.

 

Of course, the first time it gone blown out of proportion Seto had brought his fist down pretty hard about it. He sent out an e-mail to _everyone_ who was paid by Kaiba Corp., even indirectly, and made a formal announcement that his personal life was no one’s business but his own, and anyone who even so much as indicated that they thought otherwise would be fired.

 

When people figured out it was you, they started being real friendly. The guards never even asked to see your ID, which was probably dumb on their part, but you supposed that if Seto had gotten wind that some issue had sprung up, they’d pay hell like no other.

 

And as much as you appreciated him looking out for you, because that’s exactly what he was doing, you didn’t always agree with the way he went about it. Sure, he had an intense personality, but him threatening people for the sake of your safety and/or convenience wasn’t really your favorite. However, it hadn’t gotten out of hand yet, so you decided to leave well enough alone, allowing him to handle the problem however he saw fit. You’d be more than able to step in if need be.

 

Generally there was a fast moving crowd on the first floor of Kaiba Corp., but today was slightly more lax than you were used to, which was a nice change. Although, the large group of men and women in scrubs was exceptionally peculiar. As far as you knew, Kaiba Corp. didn’t have its own medical facility, and they weren’t an emergency team, so as far as you were concerned, they had no business being in the building at all.

 

You bypassed the crowd and swiped a keycard for Seto’s private elevator, waiting patiently for it to make its decent. Once inside, you began tapping the thermos in thought, unable to come up with any kind of explanation for the medical personnel. You’d have to just ask.

 

The elevator dinged quietly and you stepped out, instantly tensing as you heard Seto’s raised voice carry around the room. You sat down in a guest chair and waited quietly as he talked, listening for infections in his voice.

 

“What the hell was the point if you’re going to just _now_ tell me it’s not ready! You’ve been working on this for _years_!” His shoulders tensed as he paced along the window, seething at the ground with his hands clenched into tight fists. “That’s bullshit! I’ve already got a team on their way down, I am _not_ about to put myself in a position to have to call them back!”

 

It was really faint and hard to pinpoint, but there was something other than anger in his voice, and it sounded fairly close to... heartache? The more you listened the harder it became to tell, but something was _wrong_ , and as soon as he hung up you looked at him empathetically.

 

“Is everything all right?”

 

He just glared at you and sat back in his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. His breathing was forcedly even and calm, which gave away the fact that he was trying.

 

You placed his coffee on the desk, sliding it over to him. “I saw a group of people in scrubs downstairs, do you know anything about –?”

 

“ _Drop it_.”

 

You flinched and fought the urge to shrink into yourself, he hated when you did that, but you couldn’t help it. He only backed off when he could _see_ that you were vulnerable, and he just didn’t like it because it made him feel guilty. But your shoulders hunched of their own accord, and you looked away and down at the floor.

 

After a few long moments you heard him sigh, followed by a few deep breathes. Once he’d collected himself you chanced to look up at him, frowning at the tired look in his eyes. It wasn’t something you saw very often, but when you did it always made your heart clench in your chest.

 

“Seto, what’s going on?” you asked gently, waiting patiently for him to speak again.

 

He shook his head. “It’s not something I can share with you.”

 

“Keeping it to yourself isn’t going to do you any favors either.”

 

“The only other person that knows is Mokuba, and I intend to _keep_ it that way.”

 

“But –“

 

“Let me make this perfectly clear.” His eyes were trained on you, defensive and warning. “If I ever find out you went around asking, there _will_ be consequences. This is _not_ your business, so stay out of it.”

 

Truthfully, it hurt, but it was less from his words and more from his mistrust. You always took it upon yourself to offer consoling, whether or not you knew Seto would decline, which he always did. But eventually you were pulled from the dark and given an explanation for his behavior.

 

This time, you didn’t think you’d get so lucky.


	7. Chapter 7

You had gone home soon after, still not wanting to be too big of a bother to Mokuba, but also unable to face Tina back at the café. You were sure you might have cried.

 

Which probably would have been pointless, you didn’t have much of a reason to, not really. Sure, you didn’t think that Seto really _needed_ to use that tone with you, and he _had_ basically threatened you... but that was typical.

 

Except it shouldn’t be.

 

It was hard being with him sometimes, the way he treated you was hardly consistent on a shorthand basis. Last night he had you convinced that maybe there really _was_ something there, that even if it wasn’t really love he at least had legitimate feelings for you. But then he turns around and shuts you out of everything, even going so far as to threaten you with vague consequences.

 

Mostly, it was tiring, and you were confused. You wish that he’d just decide on whether or not he was going to treat you like a girlfriend rather than some weird sort of “friends” with benefits. Though, you’d talked about it before, he was very adamant about calling you _his girlfriend_ , so that wasn’t exactly the issue. He just didn’t always act like it, and that made things hard on you.

 

However, there was a small, precious memory you had that usually shone a little light whenever your mind drifted to the darker recesses of your relationship. It was in the midst of the awful fight that brought about his habit to leave flowers when he knew he’d be away, which was generally an argument you tried not to revisit.

 

Even remembering what he had said was hard, you’d tried so hard to forget, but the way it had made you feel still lingered, and for that the corners of your eyes began to water.

 

You had felt that his company was more important than you, but also understood that he’d gotten to where he had through blood, sweat, and probably even tears. You respected his company and knew that there were certain things he’d have to do to continuously make it flourish. But that certainly didn’t mean ignoring and talking down to you in an attempt to get you to back off, or whatever he had wanted.

 

He had come home late, far past midnight, and you’d stayed in the kitchen to wait, an empty cup of coffee between your fingertips. When he came through the door you opened your mouth to say something, _anything_ to him, but he wouldn’t have it.

 

“ _Save it._ ”

 

“ _But –_ “

 

“ _Didn’t you hear what I just said?_ ”

 

The harshness in his voice wasn’t something he had ever really directed at you, so you merely sat in shock. “ _Seto please –_ “

 

You’d gotten off the barstool at this point, and as he had walked away the words just came out of his mouth. You remember your heart shriveling as your whole body prickled and went stiff, the feeling of being small, vulnerable, and broken outweighing anything else. In that moment he had ripped you apart, and it still stung.

 

Of course, it had been unintentional, you watched from behind him as his hand flew to his mouth, and he hesitated before slowly turning around. Even through the warm tears that fell beyond your eyelashes, you could see the panic in his own eyes, and you knew he hadn’t meant it. Whatever he had said had bothered him immensely, and it wasn’t until days later that you found out how upset he was with himself at not being able to catch it before it was too late.

 

But in that moment, as you had stood in the middle of the kitchen, trembling and afraid, he immediately went to work on making up for it. He’d gathered you in his arms and carried you upstairs, whispering to you the whole while. You didn’t really pay attention to the words, just the hushed soothing sound of his voice as he apologized.

 

After a long shower, where he mostly just let you cling to him, he readied you both for bed, and continued to lull you to sleep with soft words and caring hands.

 

He’d never since been so gentle with you, but you were sure he wouldn’t have dropped all of his defenses like that if he hadn’t wanted to keep you. But as fond as that memory is to you, it only really helped in confusing you further. Had he changed his mind since then? Perhaps he didn’t quite feel the same way anymore.

 

Either way, dwelling on it was pointless, and you needed food. So you made your way down to the kitchen to make a request and spent a good hour waiting around and entertaining yourself. By the time you’d finished dinner, Mokuba had come home and simply disappeared into his room, leaving you alone again.

 

You waited around in the living room, loitered in the kitchen, and then finally trudged up the stairs to go to bed.

 

Seto didn’t come home that night.

 

* * *

 

 

You didn’t see much of him for the next few days, only when you silently brought his coffee and when he roused you while climbing into bed, both wordless interactions. Mokuba became distant and hardly knew what to say to you when you tried to spend time with him, asking him what was happening and only getting shut out further.

 

It hurt so bad; the lonely dinners, the cold nights, the way one ignored you purposefully while the other couldn’t bear to speak. Something was wrong with your boys, _your_ boys. And they were making it almost impossible for you to do anything. Aside from a confrontation – which you were not about to provoke – you’d just have to wait it out, wait and see.

 

After nearly a week had passed you changed tactics, and rather than allowing yourself to be a fleeting presence, you planted yourself in their space, but kept silent. Perhaps it would get their attention and change something, _anything_.

 

You brought one of the newer beta games to work with you, a sleek handheld thing that you could easily fit in your purse. When you prepared Seto’s coffee you made sure to have to game with you, and ritually made your way across the street, into the building, and up into his office.

 

He was at his desk, as usual, with papers in wild stacks, overlaying each other, and in some sort of organized disarray. You placed the thermos lightly down on the wood next his right hand, as you had always done, and turned. However, rather than leaving, you took up residence on the couch, plugged your ears, and dove into the game.

 

It didn’t take but a few minutes, and suddenly he was standing next to you, and you were sure his arms were crossed over his chest and he was scowling. You paused your game and looked up, feigning innocence.

 

“ _What_ are you doing?”

 

“Trying to beat a boss fight.” You could literally _hear_ his teeth grinding in agitation.

 

“Why are you in my office,” he said evenly, his stare cold and not one he’d used on you in quite a long time.

 

You furrowed your brows and went a little on the defensive. “Am I suddenly not allowed in your office anymore?”

 

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again and visibly bit his lip, forcing the words away. That was the fight resurfacing, he still felt guilty. “Just don’t bother me.”

 

“You’re the one who walked over here while I was in the middle of a _boss_ fight.” Sure, to literally anyone else, even Mokuba, that would’ve sounded like you were putting the emphasis on how boss fights are far more difficult and require more concentration than other fights. Which was true. But that’s not at all what you were _actually_ hinting at, and he knew it.

 

Back when you still worked for him, as his EPA, you had a little trick for letting him know he was being a righteous asshole. He’d grown used to you just simply calling him ‘Kaiba’, so when he was being a dick you made use of the ‘Mr.’ and accentuated it. Generally it worked, and that’s what you had just done. You’d thrown in his face that not only did he used to be your _boss_ , which he sometimes liked to forget, but he was reverting back to treating you as if he were _still_ your _boss_. It was like calling him ‘ _Mr_. Kaiba’ all over again.

 

He outright glowered at you, but didn’t retort, and stomped back over to his desk quite childishly. For the next two or three hours, you remained in his office, and when you felt that you’d made your point, you simply got up and walked out the door, grabbing the coffee thermos off his desk without even looking at him.

 

After returning it to the café, you got back in your car and headed home, feeling like you’d made your point quite adequately.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your tissue boxes ready.

Mokuba was a little easier to get through to, once you initiated.

 

After you’d gotten home you had found him in his bedroom, curled up on his bed with loud angsty teenager music playing. Typical pissy Mokuba.

 

You pushed the door open gently, peeked inside, and found his stereo with your eyes, making a quiet beeline for it. Turning it off would’ve upset him, so you just lowered the volume enough to turn it into background music.

 

He lifted his head, scowling, and turned to face you. For a brief moment you couldn’t shake the way he looked so much like his brother, and it broke your heart a little. Sweet, precious, loving little Mokie had a scowl that could rival Seto’s, and that simply didn’t sit well with you.

 

Neither of you said anything, even as you slid onto his bed with him and brushed your knuckles over his cheek. His glare softened, the look of shame taking its place, and he relaxed back into the blankets as you continued your ministrations. You brushed his hair away from his face, running your thumb along his eyebrow as he nuzzled into your touch.

 

He may have been eighteen, but he still craved affection, needed a motherly influence, and you had always done your best to rise to the occasion. Eventually he found his way into your arms and you happily pulled him as close as you could, your fingers trailing through his hair as he began to cry.

 

Unlike his older brother, Mokuba wasn’t afraid to show his feelings, he simply didn’t believe in that ‘boys don’t cry’ bullshit, and would openly tear up around you and Seto, sometimes as a way to silently say ‘please hold me I hurt’. The caregiver within you always flared up when you even so much as suspected that something was wrong, and somehow you were almost always right.

 

Mokuba clutched at the fabric of your shirt, whimpering and shaking beneath your firm hands. As you hushed him he only buried himself further against you, but your hands only held him tighter, and you remained so until you were sure he was all right.

 

After a short while his cries died down to quiet sniffling, and you let him pull away from you, searching his face.

 

He looked up at you with his large, glossy eyes, his body still shaking as your hands rested on his face. For a short second his eyes began to well again, and he finally spoke. “I love you,” he whispered, his lip quivering as his hands curled into himself.

 

Your heart clenched painfully, but you smiled anyways, cupping his cheeks as you leaned in and rubbed your nose with his. “I love you, too, Mokuba.”

 

He sniffed and shakily brought his hands up to cover yours, suddenly looking embarrassed and ashamed. You encouraged him with peppered kisses over his forehead and cheeks, whispering to him quietly as your thumbs brushed against his skin. Finally he looked back up at you, still trembling and glossy eyed. “Could I...” he paused, whining quietly and shifting his eyes. “Could I call you Mom?”

 

Just as your heart caved and twisted he shrunk beneath your hands, a look of regret unmistakable in his eyes. But he didn’t take back his question, just quivered under your stare as tears began to drop onto the bedsheets again.

 

You felt your own eyes water, and you quickly pulled him back against your chest, tucking his head under your chin as one hand dove into his hair to hold him still. He may have been eighteen, but you could still easily make out the small, tiny child that used to only ever have his brother to look to for anything. You could so easily in your mind see him wailing and clinging to his brother, sobbing uncontrollably as their lives were torn apart.

 

And here he was, still vulnerable and still working on putting the pieces back together. But now he had opened up, let you in, made you a part of his life, and wanted so desperately for you to stay. He saw in you what he’d needed almost his whole life, that one thing Seto simply couldn’t provide for him, and you’d be damned if you ever let him down.

 

As the two of you clung to each other, tears pooling on the sheets, you buried your face in his hair and whispered, “Of course you can.”

 

* * *

 

 

The two of you spent the rest of the day together, trying to make each other laugh and smile as a way to pass the time. You took him out for dinner, letting him pick, and treated him to the arcade before going back home. Truthfully, you adored Mokuba, and loved to spend time with him when you could, but he was growing up, and sometimes you worried about him.

 

He had plenty of friends, some that you’d come across by happenstance, and they had all seemed to be pretty okay. But it didn’t seem like Mokuba had any _real_ friends, the kind that he’d still talk to in ten years. Which got you worrying about where he would be in ten years, because he certainly hadn’t been interested in college, or in taking over Kaiba Corp. anymore.

 

Of course, those worries didn’t hold a candle to the fact that you _knew_ that when Mokuba ended up leaving to find his own life, it would devastate Seto. Mokuba was his whole world, and in comparison you were just a small part of it. He depended on Mokuba to validate so much of who he was, and you could only imagine how awful he must’ve felt when Mokuba had declined the offer to take his brother’s place as CEO.

 

You couldn’t help but worry. These two boys had grown up with nothing but each other, so what would happen when one finally leaves the nest? And where would you be? Sometimes you honestly couldn’t believe that you had somehow made any kind of a difference in their lives, but when push came to shove, would you still be able to make that difference?

 

Eventually you had worried yourself to sleep, Mokuba curled up with you on the couch in the living room. The tearstains on your cheeks had mostly dried, but your arms continued to clutch him as they did when the tears where still fresh.

 

You didn’t hear the kitchen door open or close, and you were oblivious to the soft footsteps as Seto finally found you where he knew he should have looked first. And even as he leaned in to kiss you both goodnight, you never saw the redness of his cheeks or how damp his eyelashes still were. You were asleep downstairs with Mokuba, you’d never hear Seto crying upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay now tell me how many tissues you went through.


	9. Chapter 9

Seto never told you, and you never pushed. Within another week the whole thing was over. By the end of a month, it was quite forgotten. It still struck you as odd, his behavior was nothing like you had ever seen, especially since he had been so undone. But he denied – and continues to do so – any feelings of sadness, remorse, or frustration over what you would never know to have happened.

 

You also wouldn’t know that it was still happening.

 

But that didn’t dampen the brighter mood he’d found himself in, and you were glad that he was more or less himself as September began the fall. He still worked late, came home past midnight more often than you liked, and began to request twice as much coffee as the cold began to settle in. However, you were just glad that he seemed to be okay.

 

Also, you already had the perfect birthday present lined up for next month.

 

This would be the first time you’d give him something for his birthday, and hopefully it wouldn’t be the last. But you were proud of yourself for coming up with the idea, and just hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be something that you’d never be able to top in years to come. If there were years to come, that is.

 

For a while you had had to make up excuses as to why you were frequenting craft and fabric stores, he knew you couldn’t sew, but you knew someone who could. But he couldn’t know that, and after your excuses started to sound ridiculous, he stopped asking. Whenever the charge would show up on his card statement, he ignored it and moved on.

 

You were just grateful he hadn’t caught you going Domino City Children’s Home. _That_ would have sparked a sure argument.

 

But it didn’t matter, his birthday gift would be amazing, and you just couldn’t imagine that it wouldn’t at least make him smile. A little.

 

Thankfully you’d done all the prep over a month in advance, and was able to keep it low key enough for him not to notice, which was exactly what you had wanted. Your plan was to have him assume that you were getting him something small, since you were sure he knew he was already hard to buy for, he had everything he wanted. So the big reveal would be totally unexpected and you would automatically be the girlfriend of the year.

 

And if that’s not how things went then you’d just cry and try again next year.

 

Unfortunately, the job of keeping the whole thing under wraps became too easy, as Seto began to spend more and more time at work, sometimes sleeping on his office couch so he didn’t have to come home. He’d argued time and again that he needed game development to have their projects done before Christmas, Kaiba Corp. made a huge chunk of its money during the holidays selling games and upgraded Duel Disks.

 

And you understood, it made perfect sense. But that didn’t help the lonely feeling you got whenever you had to spend the night alone in a half empty bed. So halfway through the month you decided to take matters into your own hands, curious to see how assertive you could be while also getting away with it.

 

Truthfully, testing each other’s boundaries was almost like a game, and had been such after you had argued and fought and realized that you simply just needed to know where the other stopped bending. There was no use in bitching about it, so eventually Seto agreed to allow boundaries to be tested without consequence unless they were crossed without grace. So far you’d done pretty good, and it had been a while since you’d gotten to play the little game, it was overdue.

 

It was evening and you figured he’d appreciate a lovingly made cup of coffee, so you filled him a thermos and grabbed your car keys off the hook.

 

Originally it wasn’t supposed to have been a present, he argued that you needed your own car and simply didn’t like the idea of you driving one of his – and neither did Mokuba. But after he saw how flustered you got after he insisted that it was a present, he just continued to refer to it as such simply to get you to react.

 

But you did love it, honestly. It was a Tesla, completely electric, and got about 270 miles to a charge. It had most of the bells and whistles – thank god he hadn’t included autopilot – and even had an upgraded stereo system so you could fully enjoy your oddly eclectic taste in music.

 

Of course, it was blue. _And_ sported a ‘Kaiba Corp.’ plate on the back. But you didn’t bother complaining, it was a nice car, and cost a pretty penny, so you’d drive it with grace. It also filled Seto with a little bit of pride every time he knew you drove it to the office, which always put a smile on your face.

 

The secretary on the ground floor only faintly nodded at your passing, having grown used to your constantly coming in and out. Most of the time you didn’t bother with the ID you’d been given, everyone knew you anyhow, so you were always able to get into the private elevator without an issue.

 

You tapped the thermos rhythmically as you rode to the top floor, contemplating over your conversational technique. All you really wanted was for him to not stay late tonight, you wanted him home in time for dinner and to spend the night in his bed where he _belonged_. So you had a few different ways of approaching the subject.

 

There was always the classic temptress thing you could do, even though you weren’t all that great at it. Or you could act all pouty and sad, that generally pulled at one of his scarce heartstrings. But there was always the option of being aloof and seemingly unavailable, even though you’d never really had the patience for it.

 

The doors opened and you shuffled inside, not having decided on what to do. He looked over his shoulder and peered at the mug in your hands, his head tilting slightly.

 

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

 

You continued over to his desk and set down his coffee. “What do you mean?”

 

Seto pulled the cup into his hands and glanced back over the oddly neat pile of documents. “You didn’t work tonight, and you don’t usually bother coming by after eight unless you want something.”

 

 _Oh yeah, you’re welcome for the coffee, lovely chat,_ God _you’re such an ass._ “Well maybe I do want something.” You had no idea where you were taking this but it was already too late to back out.

 

He eyed you curiously but didn’t say a word, quickly returning to his work while he waited for you to continue, or do whatever it was that you were going to do. And frankly, you were kind of stuck. You wanted to be up front about it, but most of the options you could think of you’d already tried... except being flat out assertive. _Huh..._

“I want you to come home tonight.”

 

There was a brief moment of silence while he continued to shuffle through papers. “I will.” He still didn’t look back at you, and you figured he was writing off the conversation.

 

Which wasn’t over as far as you were concerned.

 

“I mean, I want you home in time for dinner.”

 

He sighed and set the neatly stacked set of contracts down, looking at you with his head only slightly turned. “You know I’ve got too much work to do for that, we’ve been over this already.”

 

“That was almost three weeks ago.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It does to me.”

 

You could tell he was quickly growing frustrated with you, so you made a move before he could allow his temper to rise. It was an early learned lesson that he responded much quicker when you kept an even tone, which you were able to do now without difficulty. But you had also learned that, even though he’d never admit it, he responded just as well to affection.

 

Now, you couldn’t just go kissing him all over and hang on him and expect it to amount to anything other than him shoving you away. But small gestures, little things like playing with his hands or fingering his hair, usually did the trick. Also shoulder massages, because damn was he tense. Like, _all_ the time.

 

Even as you moved to stand behind him and put your fingers to work, you remembered a conversation you’d had with him once, about him going to see a doctor about his constantly taught muscles and strained joints. He wrote that off so quickly it almost gave you fuckin’ whiplash, and you very smartly never mentioned it again. The thought still amused you, though.

 

After a moment you could feel him relax beneath your touch, and his shoulders dropped comfortably. “I know you’ve got a lot of work to do,” you began quietly, “and I promise it’s still important to me. But so are you.”

 

Seto was so still and quite that for a second you though he’d fallen asleep. But eventually he exhaled and reached up to rest his hands over yours. “I can’t tonight... But I’ll make arrangements to be home tomorrow by six.”

 

Honestly, you were a little surprised at how well that had worked, and smiled happily to yourself as you wound your arms around his neck and nuzzled into his cheek. He let you have a few seconds before gently freeing himself, turning to give you a short kiss and thank you for the only adequate cup of coffee he’d get all day.

 

You were quite satisfied with yourself, and happily made your way back home to inform Ms. Ihara of tomorrow night’s dinner plans.


	10. Chapter 10

It was hard to sleep that night, you were so excited over having successfully persuaded your boyfriend to actually be home in time for dinner. And maybe you’d even coined him into sticking around for a movie or a little bit of competitive beta testing.

 

However, exhaustion won over, and before you knew it there was an obnoxious alarm going off at 7am, screaming at you to get your ass out of bed and ready for work. Usually you protested to yourself, but today you figured that work would help the day go by a little faster.

 

Generally you’d think that getting excited over a simple dinner was either childish or something to be reserved for married life. But considering Seto Kaiba worked by his own schedule, you allowed yourself the continued bout of excitement. He’d agreed to go out of his way, during the company’s busiest time of the year, in order to compensate you and your feelings.

 

He wasn’t nearly as bad as people thought he was.

 

Your spirits remained high even as you walked into your little café, happily greeting a few straggling Kaiba Corp. employees as they made their way out. Tina was behind the bar with an envelope in her fingers, nearly jumping with glee as soon as she spotted you.

 

“I have _wonderful_ news~” she sang, shaking the envelope at you as you joined her on the other side of the counter.

 

 _I could’ve sworn today wasn’t my birthday~_ You eagerly took the manila envelope and pulled out the stapled documentation. It was your monthly bill from Kaiba Corp. about the café’s rent, and Seto had put the entire thing together himself – seeing as he financed it and all. He always included the interest percentage in the rent so you automatically paid it off without having to do the math yourself, and he always let you know how much left you had to pay back depending on what month you’d potentially have it paid off by. It was really considerate actually, even if he had intended it to be a little bit of a slap in the face.

 

But even through all the number and figures, there was a bolded date on the bottom of the second page, set in November. That was the soonest he had estimated you could pay everything off – including the ostentatious thermos you’d gotten for him – which meant, in reality, you’d have the place paid for _before_ his birthday.

 

He was always a little generous with the estimate, probably assuming you somehow wouldn’t be able to possibly make it before that. But so far you’d always paid your rent at least a month in advance, so the end payoff date got sooner with each month. So if it was now set in November, you’d have it paid off by the next bill cycle.

 

_Life was sweet._

 

Of course, this was only going to be a victory for you, really. Mostly to show Seto that you were perfectly capable of handling your café, but also demonstrating that you had high expectations of yourself. So paying him back in time for his birthday would be like a second birthday gift.

 

Your spirits remained fairly high and constant throughout the day, even through the turmoil of Kaiba Corp.’s lunch breaks and the sneers its female employees graced you with. You’d learned to deal with those, and found that killing them with kindness did the trick beautifully. No, even they couldn’t sway your excitement, because the rest of your day was going to be wonderful and that was that.

 

Just before the evening set in you went about your ritual of fixing Seto his coffee, giving Tina the tips to count and add to the rent bill. After you’d help take care of the rest of the customers, you hung up your apron and slipped out the door, gently ringing the bell as you left. You waited until it was clear before crossing the street, then made your way up the steps and through the front doors.

 

It was usually bustling around this time of day, but not to the point where you couldn’t get around people and to Seto’s private elevator. You approached the door, and immediately noticed the security guard standing next to it. That in itself wasn’t unusual, there was almost always one posted by his elevator, but this was not the one you’d seen on countless visits. He was new.

 

“Employee and public elevators are across the room, ma’am. This is a private elevator.” He stood stock still, only his eyes shifting to look at you.

 

Generally you didn’t have your ID on you, which was your fault, of course, but you rarely needed it since almost everyone knew who you were by now. “Oh no, I don’t work here, I’m –“

 

“Public elevators are _across the room._ ”

 

This was going to be annoying. “I’m not part of the public,” you replied, stepping forward to just bypass him completely. He sidestepped and blocked the buttons, now scowling at you.

 

“Ma’am, please don’t make me call security.”

 

“Then don’t make me call Kaiba. _Move._ Or I’ll have him move you _for me_.”

 

As he opened his mouth to retaliate and probably call security, the bell chimed behind him and he quickly turned and resumed his post. He didn’t bother addressing his boss, just stood dutifully and with his mouth shut, though still staring at you.

 

Seto exited, engaged in a conversation with Roland, who stepped out with him. You’d actually come to be quite fond of Roland, and insisted he was underpaid for the bullshit Seto put him through, or _had_. Back when the boys were younger Roland had acted as a sort of babysitter and advisor all rolled up into one. You had a lot of respect for him, and he always got you to laugh, too.

 

“Well well, were you on your way up?” he greeted, smiling pleasantly.

 

You scoffed, eyeing the opportunity to dig your proverbial nails into the hand that tried to bite you just a moment ago. “I was trying to, but silly me forgot my ID at home and apparently this –“ you pointed to the guard, “ _new guy_ doesn’t have a clue as to who I am.”

 

Roalnd shook his head, “That simply won’t do.”

 

Seto took the hint and turned to the guard, narrowing his eyes and very pointedly sizing him up. “She’s my girlfriend, _don’t_ become a problem.”

 

The man stiffened and stammered a reply, quickly addressing you with an apology before resuming his station and ignoring the lot of you.

 

The two started up their conversation again, and Seto quickly set a firm hand on the small of your back to guide you along, quietly thanking you for the coffee. You had no idea as to what they were discussing, but it was probably important and you remained quiet while you and Seto escorted Roland out to the curb where a limo was waiting.

 

Seto might not have really mentioned it, but he was far beyond grateful for what Roland had done a handful of years ago. He trusted Roland probably more than anyone else on Kaiba Corp.’s payroll, and showed it in his own little way. He treated Roland whenever he could, since you both knew Mokuba was growing out of his brother’s material affection. But Roland never complained, and took everything with unmatched grace.

 

You waved him off happily, watching as the limo pulled away before Seto turned to go back into the building, apparently with or without you. “Hey, do you think maybe –“

 

“I’ve got a lot of work to do, you should go back to work.”

 

He walked away calmly, not once looking over his shoulder at you.

 

* * *

 

 

You heaved open the side door of the garage that lead into the kitchen, hanging your keys next to Mokuba’s and dropping the rest of your things on the island counter. Ms. Ihara appeared in the service window with a smile on her face. She knew how excited you were over dinner.

 

“It’s going on five, any ideas?”

 

Of course you had ideas, you’d been stewing on them all day. _Hehe, stewing._ “I think we’ll do beer fillet for dinner, and chocolate parfait for dessert. That’ll make them _both_ happy.” And you’d learned the hard way how difficult it was to make them _both_ happy.

 

While Ms. Ihara prepared dinner you went upstairs to change out of your work clothes and into something comfortable and dinner appropriate. You had some time before dinner would be ready, and let Seto know about when he should be home. He didn’t reply, but you knew he read it, and that was all that mattered.

 

Finally you were summoned to dinner, and you took your seat at the long, elegant wooden table with content excitement. Mokuba sat down on the other side of the table across from you, and that left the head of the table open for Seto.

 

For a short while the two of you simply sipped at your wine and made conversation, which ended up drawing out over half an hour. Seto still wasn’t home. You checked your phone, hadn’t gotten a reply, and sent him another text in hopes he was actually getting them.

 

It wasn’t all bad though, he didn’t generally like the before-dinner salads and either wouldn’t show up until they were over or would decline the offer. So you didn’t start to get worried until your salad plates were taken away and your glasses refilled. There was still no answer to any of your messages.

 

Mokuba had picked up on your dampening mood, and tried to change the subject as often as possible while still skirting around the point. He wouldn’t be as upset as you if his brother was a no show, he was used to not really expecting much in the way of formal family conventions. Truthfully, Mokuba wasn’t fond of “family dinner nights”, but humored you because he liked seeing you happy.

 

Eventually, though, Ms. Ihara came through the side door with her hands folded in front of her apron. “Would you like to wait for Mr. Kaiba?”

 

You looked down at the table, realization ramming into you like a derailed freight train. He simply wasn’t coming to dinner. He wasn’t coming and he hadn’t bothered to tell you or let you know. He just let you down instead.

 

“No... I’m not hungry anymore.”


	11. Chapter 11

After you had left the dining hall you hadn’t really cared what became of dinner, and didn’t want to think about it either. Seto didn’t show up, and that had been enough for you.

 

Currently, you were out in the hot tub with a different glass of wine and a tall cup of water, mediating yourself so you wouldn’t be a stuttering angry mess whenever he _did_ get home. If he got home. _If_.

 

You leaned over the edge, resting your head in one hand while the other played a mindless game of Bejeweled on your tablet, trying to keep your brain occupied enough to not delve into other matters besides matching up little sparkly gemstones and _why the fuck can’t I beat this level_?

 

It didn’t matter, your head slumped and you pushed the little device away, resting your head in your arms as they folded under you. Other than the clock on your tablet there was no other way for you to know what time it was, how long you’d been outside in the hot tub, or when you should’ve gone to bed. You’d refused to look at it.

 

However, you were far too frustrated and upset to go to bed, and you knew that eventually you’d fall asleep when you were tired enough. Whether or not you’d be alone was still up for debate. Even if Seto did come home you might still be too upset with him to be around him, and even though you knew it was petty, you already knew which spare guest room you’d be sleeping in if it came to that.

 

“I hope you don’t expect me to apologize.”

 

Your fists clenched, startled that he’d snuck up on you and angry that he was acting like he hadn’t done anything. You didn’t reply. Instead, you waited for him to continue to initiate, if he wanted to make any kind of amends he’d have to put forth some effort, since it was so lacking with dinner.

 

He moved quietly towards you, and you heard his shorts rustle as he sat down beside you. Honestly you figured it was a little surprising that he was joining you, but you were also far too upset to pay too much attention. Even as he moved behind you and traced his hands over your bare skin, you receded within yourself, trying to formulate responses to things you were sure he would say.

 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

 

“My feelings aren’t ridiculous.”

 

“It was just dinner.”

 

“You could’ve let me know you wouldn’t make it.”

 

“If I was too busy to come home don’t you think I would’ve been too busy to give you an explanation?”

 

“If I was important enough you would’ve made time.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

“The fact that we’ve already fought over this and you still don’t seem to get it _isn’t fair_.”

 

Perhaps that was far too deep of an accusation far too soon, but you didn’t know how else to get your point across. Seto doesn’t deal well with feelings, therefore he doesn’t see the emotions behind actions, simply the face of them instead. To him it was just dinner, to you it was the joy of spending time with him. The two of you simply didn’t see things the same way.

 

Seto was quiet as he removed himself from you, his trembling fingers not quick enough to hide their own feelings from you.

 

Without turning to look at his face you were sure he was feeling one of two things, angry that he had been working his ass off for weeks and coming home early at all even through his exhaustion didn’t seem to be enough for you, or guilt ridden that even after such a nasty fight he still hadn’t made much progress in the way of catering to your feelings when he knew he should.

 

When you did turn around, his face was blank, his eyes shielding himself from you. He had retreated inside himself, which was something he’d learn to do in order to prevent unnecessary emotions from the current situation, which ended up allowing the two of you to bypass quite a few petty arguments when you cooperated. But otherwise, you ended up screaming or crying at a brick wall.

 

He moved to sit on the lower ledge of the hot tub, not away from you, but pointedly not next to you. His eyes lost focus as they stared forward and out into the darkness of the back yard, the rest of his body lax and without a tell of what was going on inside his head.

 

The pang of guilt was to be expected, you felt guilty a _lot_. Guilty that you fell in love with him in the first place, guilty because you weren’t sure if he loved you back but he was keeping you around anyway, guilty that maybe he was just waiting for you to leave and you were taking too long to get it. You never felt guilty about how you felt, just that maybe you weren’t what he needed, and maybe you never would be.

 

You’d tried a few times to tell him, but never was able to actually voice any of those thoughts, afraid of what he’d say or if he’d get angry. But you wish he knew, because maybe he’d be more straightforward with you, more honest. And truthfully, you wondered if you weren’t really the person he hoped you’d be, and that he ended up becoming attracted to someone he was just waiting for you to be that you’d never turn into. You were sure you didn’t meet most of his expectations...

 

“I never promised.”

 

You grit your teeth and sighed, a little irritated that you hadn’t thought of a response for his words, even though you really should have seen them coming. If there was one thing you admired about Seto Kaiba, it was that he simply didn’t break promises. That being said, he rarely made promises, and only did so when he was sure he could keep them. He hadn’t promised to be home in time for dinner, so it was partly your fault that you were so upset, you allowed yourself to get your hopes up without stopping to consider the fact that he didn’t promise you anything.

 

Of course, you were still upset either way, and felt that he at least could have given you a heads up no matter _how_ busy he was. “I know,” was all you could bring yourself to say.

 

It was petty, how oddly you enjoyed feeling small and helpless, trying to project how pathetic you felt in attempts to get him to open up a little. But you were tired, and putting on a tough exterior was exhausting, it was easier to be sad.

 

You slept in a guest bedroom that night.

 

* * *

 

 

The next week was dull and bleary, you woke up, went to work, came home, and slept alone. You saw Seto once a day to bring him coffee, and hardly spoke a word. There wasn’t much to say, your emotions were written on your face, and he had made no move to change anything. September was practically over, and the dropping temperatures only made you feel smaller and more alone.

 

You really didn’t want much anymore, just someone to keep you warm at night, or sit with in front of the fireplace, or share coffee with, or hold your hand. Seto didn’t do those things, and you often spent time wondering if he would even if he did have a moment to spare for you.

 

Mokuba wasn’t oblivious to the whole thing either, and he was probably just as angry as you were sad that his brother had seemed to have written you off and left you in the cold. The younger Kaiba loved his brother fiercely, but never let it mask his brother’s faults and mistakes, and wasn’t afraid to call him out on such things, especially when they hurt other people. But you knew he wasn’t saying anything to Seto about it, if he was even talking to him at all, and that had a lot to do with him not wanting to interfere with a relationship that wasn’t his own.

 

Sure, the two of you had your own relationship, which continued to grow and strengthen, but he wasn’t specifically a part of your relationship with Seto, and did his best to keep his mouth shut. Whether he was being respectful or not was anyone’s guess, but you were glad either way.

 

Saturday brought heavy rain, and you wore your thickest coat to work in order to keep warm during the short moments you’d spend outside. The café held a steady stream of customers throughout the day, which was just as constant as the pouring rain. Eventually the evening began as the sun creeped towards the horizon, and you still needed to bring Seto coffee.

 

For a brief moment your brain argued that he didn’t deserve coffee, but you quickly came to terms with the fact that you’d rather get wet than feel guilty later for flaking on him. So you warmed a pot, filled his thermos, and stepped outside.

 

Your fingers clutched around the metal as you cradled it against you, the howling winds sending the rain down like bullets. But you dutifully drew up your hood and made a point to not turn back, your ritual would withstand the rain.

 

The short distance to the large building across the street became nearly dangerous almost immediately. You weren’t all that small, but the winds could’ve easily blown you over, and the rain stung your exposed skin. The cold bit through your entire body as the rain soaked through your coat and left you without warmth. You ran as safely as you could manage, keeping your head low and the thermos within your iron grasp.

 

But as soon as the doors opened and you stepped inside, the pain seemed to double. You became painfully aware of how cold and wet you were, your skin was blotchy and numb, and your hair tangled within your hood, sticking to your face in icy strands.

 

The people on the ground floor parted for you as you walked by, shakily taking small, shuffled steps towards the elevator. Even the guard gave no trouble about your ID, and within a blurry few minutes, you’d made it up to Seto’s office. Setting the thermos on the wooden desk felt like a victory, and was entirely too short lived. You’d have to brave the weather again in order to get back to your café.

 

You didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned to leave, your hair obscuring most of your vision anyway, and you could imagine how awful _you_ looked in comparison. You certainly felt awful enough. Your body trembled viciously, your muscles tensed painfully so, and breathing inwards stung your lungs horridly. There was a good chance you’d be sick.

 

However, as you turned to leave, your body trembling and your teeth chattering, you heard him call out to you, his voice soft and stern.

 

“Wait.”

 

Instinctively, you stopped, your feet shuffling as they squelched in your boots, and turned to look at him. He stood from his chair, stepping around from behind his desk, and stopped only a few inches from where you stood. You didn’t get a good look at him, but you could sense that he was tired.

 

“Turn around,” he said quietly, placing his hands on your shoulders. He hooked his fingers beneath your coat and waited for you to turn, then slipped it along your arms it to drape it over the back of the nearest chair. Confused, you remained where you were, waiting for him as he shuffled behind you, shrugging out of his own coat, before you felt a new weight on your shoulders.

 

He had lent you his trench coat, pulling your arms through before gently leading you over to the couch. “You can leave when the rain stops.”

 

As you got comfortable, you looked up at him, huddling into the oddly familiar fabric. “But it’s supposed to rain all night...”

 

“Then I’ll walk you to your car when I’m done.”

 

You kept to yourself for the rest of the day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short, but it's full of fluff, so I didn't want to overdo it. Enjoy~

It was around eight at night when you heard him rise, listening to the familiar noises that you knew meant he was packing up to leave. But you remained in your spot on the couch, waiting until he came to rouse you himself, just in case he wasn’t actually done. However, within the next minute or so he approached you quietly, holding out his hand to help you up.

 

He pulled you out of his coat, which was far too big for you, and slipped it back on his shoulders before handing you your own coat. It had been taken to the cleaners and dried since you’d entered his office, and you made a mental note to thank Kim the next time you saw her.

 

The short trip to the ground level and across the street was spent in silence, neither of you having anything in particular to say. Perhaps the two of you were just being stubborn, but you knew well enough that Seto would talk when he thought he needed to, and it was generally easier to communicate with him on his terms.

 

Seto left you at your car, his face still neutral as he spoke. “I’ll meet you at the house.”

 

You watched him walk away for far too long, and suddenly missed him very much, even though you’d see him in only a handful of minutes. But you tiredly went about starting your car and situating yourself, uncharacteristically double checking everything before driving off. It was obvious that you were stalling.

 

Which was strange, somehow you were nervous, which was closely akin to how you felt the first time he took you on a _real_ date. Then again, you hadn’t spent time with him at home in quite a while, and maybe your nerves were just acting up because you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself knowing he’d be home for once.

 

The front gate swung open automatically, and you parked your car in the same spot as per your routine, locking it behind you and making for the side door that lead into the kitchen. Seto’s keys were already on the hook by the door, he’d beaten you home. Your stomach churned again.

 

The butler, Himoru, was waiting in the kitchen for you. “Master Seto has requested to see you in the living room after you’ve changed.”

 

You sighed internally, but put on a smile for him, always trying to show your gratitude towards him whenever possible, since Seto didn’t seem to appreciate him enough. Then you hauled yourself up the stairs and into the master bedroom, peeling away your still vaguely damp work uniform. After setting your clothes in the hamper to be laundered you shuffled through your half of the closet for something to wear. Fleece pants and camisole seemed as good a choice as any, but you snagged a light jacket just in case.

 

When you padded into the living room you found Seto curled up comfortably on the couch, a warm mug in his hands. You waited a moment before addressing him. “Did you still want to see me?” You felt more like a client waiting for an appointment then you did his girlfriend, and that suddenly made you feel worse.

 

His head turned and he took a brief second to look you over, then set his mug down on the coffee table and held out a hand. “Come here,” he said quietly, waiting patiently for you join him.

 

As you approached him he gingerly took your hand and guided you into his lap, draping your legs over his own and cradling your head as you tucked it against him, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt. For a moment the two of you were still, allowing yourselves to be comfortable in the other’s presence until Seto spoke.

 

“You know I don’t want you to think that you aren’t important to me, and just because I’m busy doesn’t mean I don’t try to make time for you. I’m still not going to apologize for missing dinner, but it wasn’t because I wanted to, and I did try.”

 

As you listened to the soothing sound of his voice your breathing slowed, and you relaxed further against him as he continued.

 

“You and I both know I’m terrible with feelings, but that doesn’t mean yours aren’t valid. I am trying, and it’s hard, especially right now when I don’t have a lot of energy to spare. But I _promise_ I’ll never stop trying, even if I don’t know how to show it.”

 

It wasn’t what you had expected of him, but you were pleasantly surprised, and it didn’t take long for you to internally forgive him. You knew he was telling you the truth, and for that you were grateful, especially when his words had been so kind. Of course, it wasn’t like he was incapable of being kind, he certainly wasn’t, but you cherished every moment that he was, and appreciated them for as long as you could.

 

You finally got your wish to start using the fireplace, and Seto had a second mug of hot chocolate brought in for you. He let you snuggle up to him, and subtly returned your affection, smiling to himself as you responded in kind. When both mugs were empty he prompted to make sure you got a bath in before bed, and you wondered if it had been because he felt guilty that you’d put yourself through hell just to bring him coffee.

 

But you didn’t protest, allowing him, instead, to walk you upstairs and into the lavish bathroom where he coaxed you out of your clothes and into the warm running water. As you held your head under the faucet, fingering through the tangled mess of hair, you noticed him undressing.

 

It wasn’t wholly uncommon for him to shower with you, that happened fairly often actually. However, taking baths wasn’t really his thing, he’d rather wash up and get it over with than relax and soak, even though you were sure it’d do wonders for his nerves.

 

So the fact that he was willingly joining you was a little strange for him, but you weren’t about to question him. You just went about rinsing out your hair and detangling it strand by strand, hoping to make it a little more manageable for washing. Somewhere along the line Seto had plugged the drain and water began filling the tub, also, you couldn’t seem to find your shampoo.

 

“Let me do it, you’ll just tangle it again.”

 

You felt his hands start working through your hair, and soapy bubbles quickly started floating in the bath water. It felt nice to have someone else wash your hair for you, and his seemingly practiced hands sent a chill down your spine and tingles along your shoulders. After a good scrub he guided you back under the water and gently ran his fingers through the ends, working his way up to rinse out the bubbles. As he messed with your hair a thought occurred to you, and you imagined him when he was far younger, with Mokuba, doing the same thing he was to you. Of course, it probably took twice as long, Mokuba had far more hair than you did.

 

Once your hair was washed and rinsed, and after giving him your best puppy eyes, he let you return the favor. Seto crossed his legs and folded his arms against his knees, bowing his head reluctantly to appease what he probably considered to be a childish want of yours. But as you worked the soap into his hair, lathering as thoroughly as you could, his tense shoulders quivered, then went lax.

 

After his hair had been rinsed Seto eagerly made to wrap things up to get you to bed, helping to towel dry your hair after securing his own around his hips. When he was satisfied he nudged you back into the bedroom where you went about redressing into your pajamas, then unmade the bed to crawl into its gaping warmth. It only took him a moment to finish up and turn out the lights, and you smiled with content as you felt the bed dip under his weight.

 

He thoughtlessly pulled you against him, his arms working through repetition, a habit they’d formed on their own. Seto Kaiba wasn’t a cuddler, he always thought of it as a primal form of protection, keeping what mattered closer during the night.

 

But he wasn’t fooling you. He was cuddling.


	13. Chapter 13

For you, the month of October droned on at an excruciating pace, seemingly with an endless downpour of either gentle cascades or buckets of flooding brutality without any kind of in between. For Seto, it had gone by far too quickly.

 

Most of that had to do with the fact that he continued to work at an inhumane pace, hardly taking any hours for himself, even though you both knew he really needed to. But you’d accepted that this was how it was going to be every year, he counted very much on the holidays to help sustain his company throughout the rest of the year until the next. So you stopped feeling bad for yourself about “being so lonely”, and he responded with tiny gestures to make his point that he wasn’t putting you aside.

 

His maturity went beyond what the generality of his age group was, so naturally he sort of expected the same of you; to be mature. He responded better when he felt you were acting like an adult, and secretly appreciated you giving him the space and mental ease that he needed. Occasionally he allowed you to come in and give Kim a hand, minded that you understood he would _not_ be paying you for it. You figured he wouldn’t, he hardly paid Mokuba even though his VP title hadn’t yet been lifted but he still showed up for a shift on the odd day he had nothing better to do.

 

And when you weren’t helping around Kaiba Corp., entertaining Mokuba, or milling around the house, you were coordinating Seto’s big birthday gift. Well, technically speaking it wasn’t actually big, you didn’t buy him anything – that would’ve been pointless and you had eventually come to the conclusion that somehow he’d never forgive you. But you’d put a lot of thought into his gift, had tailored it to fit him as best you could, and honestly, you were damn proud of yourself.

 

Of course, you still had to actually put the whole thing together, which was going to take some coordination since it involved so many people and needed to be done in secret while also in the middle of your café. It was going to be tricky, but you were sure it wasn’t impossible, and eagerly called everyone over the week before Seto’s birthday.

 

You’d closed the shop after the lunch hour rush, stating it’d be closed until the evening, just to give yourself some extra time in case you needed it. The caretaker pulled open the door, a lovely middle aged woman with a tall figure and flowing brown hair. A group of about fifteen or so children came filing in, each in a cute little hand sewn coat with wide smiles on their faces.

 

Your heart swelled, and you happily greeted each one, a firm image of an orphaned Seto looming in the far reaches of your imagination.

 

* * *

 

 For the next few days you easily avoided your boyfriend when needed, which in turn gave him space to work. But you couldn’t quite ignore the slightly cold look in his eyes as you continuously skirted around him, claiming you had something important to do. He would always huff and roll his eyes in a non-playful manner, and proceed to ignore you with just as much vigor. On a small level, you felt bad, but you knew that the payoff would be worth it, if you could get the thing edited in time for Sunday.

 

Which suddenly became the next day, and you were all but mimicking his shitty work habits. You’d stayed up past 2am for the last three nights, drank twice as much coffee as you would any other day, and skipped the odd meal when the kitchen just seemed much too far away.

 

Seto had absolutely noticed, and at one point had made the attempt to confront you about it, a carefully masked look of worry fleeting across his face. But you’d given him the same damn excuse you had for the last few days, and simply because he was trying to outwardly show that he cared, your brushing him off only _pissed_ him off. After that he just stopped trying to talk to you altogether.

 

But as far as you were concerned, your reason was valid, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever been upset with you before. Though, you _did_ hope, however, that his gift would be enough to make up for it. Again, if you got the thing edited in time.

 

Currently, you were sitting in bed, your laptop laying across your outstretched legs as you worked beyond your heavy eyes and aching muscles. You were so close, and as soon as you were done saving it, you could finally make headway on the finishing touches, and then it’d be done –

 

“This is getting ridiculous.”

 

Your laptop abruptly closed and was pulled away from you.

 

“Wait – !”

 

“You can finish it tomorrow.” Seto looked down at you from his side of the bed, your laptop firmly in his nimble fingers. He looked tired and irritated, worn after an exceptionally long day at work, which was the only reason he was home and going to bed _before_ midnight.

 

It didn’t take a very long look before your heart sank, and you sighed in submission, slumping under the covers. The light on the bedside table clicked off, and you felt him rustle into a comfortable position before he pulled you against him.

 

“I don’t appreciate the way you’ve been avoiding me.” His voice might have been quiet, but the authority was still very obviously there.

 

You groaned inwardly. “You’ll understand tomorrow.”

 

His fingertips dug into your skin, and you immediately knew that he was not going to accept that as an answer. “When you were upset that I suddenly had to work so many extra hours, I didn’t brush _you_ off.”

 

That was code for “I’m going to passive aggressively bring up how you’re acting like more of a child than I am”. He was right, though, he didn’t have any idea what you were doing, or that it had anything to do with his birthday gift. From his point of view, he probably went ahead assumed that he’d done something to upset you, but rather than confront him about it you’re just ignoring him instead.

 

You could see why he’d be upset.

 

“I just wanted to make sure I did something meaningful for you birthday. That’s not so bad.”

 

He didn’t seem convinced, you were probably going to have a few finger shaped bruises in the morning. “Don’t you think I’d just rather you spend time with me, especially if you’re going to insist on doing anything to begin with? And I thought we agreed on no gifts.”

 

Somehow, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. “I didn’t buy you anything, that would’ve been pointless. And if you wanted to spend time with me so bad why didn’t you just say so?” As you turned to look at him you could feel your grin turn a little coy.

 

He pressed his lips together in the way he did when his cheeks flushed, but he quickly went back to arguing with you. “I couldn’t have gotten your attention even if the damn house was on fire, you haven’t said a _word_ to me in three days!”

 

Oh you knew what was going on now. He was all upset because he had assumed that you would be acting extra sweet for his birthday, but instead you’d just been trying to keep his gift under wraps – _that was a shitty pun._ Well, perhaps you could still fix it.

 

“Aww, so you _did_ miss me?” He might not have been able to see, but you batted your eyelashes anyway.

 

Seto recoiled immediately. “Oh no, I am _not_ falling for that bullshit. If you think you can fix this with make-up sex then you can sleep on your _own_ side of the bed.” He promptly let go of you and rolled over, a childish ‘hmph’ escaping his lips.

 

You supposed anyone else would take this as him saying ‘fuck off, leave me alone’, but you knew better. Instead of letting him be, you scooched over to his side of the bed and snuggled up to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and nuzzling into his hair.

 

Sometimes he just needed you to show initiative, to be the big spoon. He may have always been the protector, but that didn’t mean that sometimes he didn’t need to be shown the same kind of affection. That was alright, you certainly didn’t mind, sometimes you liked being the big spoon. For all the time and effort he put into being the boss of the house and an assertive wall of authoritative protection, the least you could do was let him relax around you without feeling like his title was in jeopardy. He always worried that if he let himself slip, even a little, his reputation of ‘that intimidating asshole that runs Kaiba Corp.’ would be lost, and you knew how much he relied on it.

 

Just before you nodded off to sleep, you felt one of his warm hands rest atop your own, gently squeezing your fingers before going lax.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so proud of this idea if there's ever fanart for this fic I'd want it to be of the tiny kids in their matching coats~ ;w;

You’d woken up around 5am, just a little bit before Seto had his alarm set to go off, and you were horridly thirsty. As you entered the kitchen and pulled out a pitcher of water from the fridge, you spotted the little notepad on the counter, the pen still left out with the cap off to the side. Once you poured yourself a glass you picked up the pen and decided to leave a little note, as he’d done for you so many times before.

 

_I hope you have an easy day at work, I’ll be by just after lunch with your gift if you’ve got time. Happy Birthday!_

Satisfied, you capped the pen and slid into the drawer where it belonged, then headed back upstairs to bed. You slept peacefully for the rest of the morning, and when you awoke next Seto was already gone to work.

 

Deciding against going into your café, you opted to stay at the house in order to finish editing his gift, knowing you’d finish quicker without distractions. When eleven rolled around you’d perfected every detail, burned it to a disc, and Sharpied a title on the front. You slipped the jewel case into your purse and grabbed your keys on your way out the door, knowing you’d be walking in right at rush time.

 

Lunch lasted between about noon and 2pm, since different employees had different lunch break schedules. But about fifteen after one the crowd all but died, and you made sure that everyone else would be able to handle the stragglers before you headed out across the street (and not without Seto’s coffee).

 

You hustled across the street, your pea coat flaring just a little behind you as the wind kicked up, making you think immediately of Seto’s own ostentatious trench coat that seemed to constantly defy the laws of gravity and physics. Yours, however, was not nearly so dramatic, and was manageable in the wind, which probably saved you from toppling over in the middle of the street.

 

As your short heels clacked onto the concrete court in front of the building, you noticed that there were far more people milling about than there usually were on any given Sunday. And all of them were women...

 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

 

You stopped and looked around, eyeing a tightly knit group of women only a few feet away, one of them glaring snottily at you.

 

“Excuse me?” You were sure you had no idea who she was.

 

“Don’t play stupid, it’s not like you’re any better than the rest of us.” Her arms folded pointedly under her breasts, as if to elevate them to somehow mock you.

 

Grimacing, you took a small step back. “Look, I don’t know you, so the two of us have _no_ business with each other.” You had started to walk off, having already been about halfway through the crowd, when she screeched after you in a very unladylike fashion.

 

“It doesn’t matter what you got him, you’re just another _reject_! Your fake coat won’t fool anyone either!”

 

_Um excuse me, what the fuck did that bitch just say to me?_ You whirled on your heels, squaring your shoulders and lifting your shin. “I don’t know what kind of problem you have, but you need to leave me the hell out of it. Kindly _fuck off_.”

 

So your choice of words weren’t really any sweeter than hers, and apparently you’d pissed them _all_ off. Someone off to the side shouted ‘She looks like that bitch from Kaiba Land’ and then you knew what was going on. These were rabid fangirls. _Well shit._

 

By the time your back was turned they had already started running after you, and even the short burst and handful of steps it took you to get to the front doors had your lungs burning. But they were relentless, and came swarming inside behind you, screaming and calling you names as they filed in through the front doors at an alarming pace.

 

The employees that had been bustling around on the ground floor immediately flew to the edges of the room, and you could see receptionists jumping up in surprise, then reaching for their phones to call security. Your legs weren’t all that long to begin with, and the mob had started to catch up, and for a moment you were sure you were going to be swarmed.

 

Seto’s private elevator was only a few strides away, and your hand was already reaching out to push the button when you felt a jerking motion on the back of your coat. Your feet flew out in front of you in desperation as you tried not to backpedal, but the feeling was gone just as soon as it had been there. Your hand found the button and nearly smashed it into the wall, and you pressed your back against the doors to catch your breath.

 

There had already been a few guards around, which was customary, and had apparently seen the spectacle from their side of the room. Currently, they had formed a thin wall between you and the seething mob of girls who were all arguing as to why they hadn’t snagged you as well. As you regained you breathing and looked around, you became disgusted quickly. They probably would have mauled you given the chance.

 

“What is _wrong_ with you people!” You were glaring at them in between the guards, your hands balled into fists. “You all could have killed me!”

 

Off to your right you saw a group of security guards hustling their way over, Roland tagging behind them. They quickly reinforced the wall of muscle and began pushing the women back outside, not bothering to answer or argue with any of them.

 

Roland shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled, shaking his head. “Never seen this many before.”

 

You whirled on him, frenzied confusion etched all over your face. “What the hell were they doing here!”

 

He snickered lightly, and you could see just a little humor behind his shades. “Oh this happens every October, you should see some of the uh... _gifts_ they send Mr. Kaiba. It’s quite disgusting, really.”

 

_Those fucking animals try winning him over by sending him gifts to Kaiba Corp.?_ “That’s insane!”

 

“Yeah, well,” he huffed, “so are they.” He smiled at you pulled his hands out of his pockets to radio in that the problem had been dealt with, then looked at you one last time before departing.

 

You heaved a sigh before pushing the button yet again, opening the doors so that you could stumble inside. You scowled to yourself until you reached the top floor, then you scowled at Seto once you’d stomped over to his desk.

 

“You must have seen the horde of women downstairs.” He was working at his laptop – as usual – and didn’t really look up at you.

 

Your face scrunched irritably. “Yeah, they almost _killed me_.”

 

“You should be more careful next time.”

 

Here you scoffed. “Yeah, if I live to see a next time.”

 

“Did you want something _other_ than to distract me?” He turned his gaze upwards, meeting your own just as easily as he always had. He wasn’t being funny this time.

 

Quickly, you pulled the jewel case from your coat pocket and handed it over, trying very hard not to smile too terribly much.

 

Seto took it gingerly, scrutinizing both sides equally. “This better not –“

 

“Just shut up and put it in.”

 

His eyes narrowed, but he sighed and gave in all the same, slipping the CD into the disc tray.  You waited anxiously as he fooled with his fussy operating system, and moved to stand next to him once he’d found the video file.

 

You hadn’t bothered editing in a title, that would’ve been too cheesy. Instead, you opened with a modified quote, something you had said to him some months ago.

 

_You’ve done more good for people than anyone else I’ve ever met. You turned the Kaiba name into something to be proud of._

 

The screen cut to the inside of your coffee shop, empty of customers but full of little children in the background, all of them wearing matching Blue-Eyes coats. The Matron was standing at the forefront of the frame, her arms crossed as a smile played on her lips. “ _You know... we really couldn’t be prouder._ ”

 

For the next few minutes the video switched between children, sometimes a small group of them, some individually. You had asked them what they thought of when they heard the name ‘Kaiba’, and each one eagerly smiled and gave a response. Most of the boys gave grand explanations about video games –particularly new releases set for the holiday seasons – and Duel Monsters, some delving into Seto’s older dueling career. The girls generally kept to the topic of how they were hopeful that they could all have futures as bright as his.

 

Next to you, Seto had visibly stiffened, his fingers laced together and pressed against his mouth. You could just barely make out his dampening eyelashes.

 

After the children had given their tiny speeches, it cut back to the Matron, still standing tall in her melancholy. “ _We always sort of knew he’d be a little different._ ”

 

Your voice was then heard from behind the camera, giggling. “ _Oh yeah? What tipped you off?_ ”

 

The Matron smiled. “ _You mean aside from the fact that he was the most reclusive kid there was?_ ”

 

“ _Well that hasn’t exactly changed,_ ” you laughed again.

 

“ _No I think it was... You know how you can tell when kids are smart? He was just... he seemed so much older than he really was. I mean I’ve never seen a 10-year-old act so much like an adult. Of course, after Gozaburo, we all worried about him, and Mokuba, but we never expected him to get quite where he is now. What he’s done, the lives that he’s changed... Sometimes I wish he knew just how much hope he gives people._ ”

 

You looked down again, and saw that his knuckles had long since turned white, but he valiantly kept a straight face. Gently, you tangled your fingers in his hair.

 

After the Matron was done speaking, having to hold a hand up to her mouth to keep herself from tearing up, the screen cut again, back to the mess of children. They’d all been arranged in a little group, the tallest kids towards the back, and the Matron standing to the side. On your count they all yelled “ _Happy birthday Mr. Kaiba!_ ” and let out little ferocious dragon roars, drawing their hoods and holding up the claws of their sleeves.

 

You kept the end just as simple as the beginning, blurring out a background scene of everyone sitting in the café with the date in bold white font. Then it was over.

 

Seto hadn’t moved from where his sat, except to close his eyes.

 

“Well? What did you think? I was pretty proud of it~” You couldn’t help yourself, it had turned out exactly the way you wanted to, and things rarely ever did that.

 

“Go home.”

 

You blinked. “Wha – ?”

 

“ _Please._ ”

 

You could hear the way he tried to keep his voice even, and you thought maybe you’d overdone it just a little. But you knew that he was telling you to go home because he was upset, he was asking you to so he could have a minute to himself. “Okay.” You kissed him and made your way out through the double doors. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

 

Once the doors closed behind you Kim lit up from her side of the desk, and you smiled with pride.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

“Oh you know, I made him cry~”

 

She cringed, but the smile never faded. “That bad, huh?”

 

You nodded. “It was heart wrenching. As soon as I get the CD back I’ll make a copy and show you.”

 

Shaking her head she mused, “What did he ever do to deserve you, I wonder?”

 

Truthfully, you didn’t really want an answer to that question. You were just as content to know that, on some weird level, you made him happy. For now, that was plenty good enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I like how this one came out.

That night he had come home at a decent hour, kissed you mercilessly, and had promptly taken you to bed. After that, things changed, and not for the better.

 

Seto had ignored you before, many times, either because he was upset with you or was trying to prove some point. But every time he had ignored you, there had been an emotion behind it, something driving him to do it. This time, there wasn’t anything there, nothing to tip you off. He had thanked you deeply for his gift, something that caught you very much by surprise, but you’d welcomed it all the same.

 

Now, he was almost a total stranger.

 

You had tried to tell yourself it was mostly just stress, because you knew he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders. But after a handful of weeks, that stopped working as an excuse, and your heart ached because you missed him terribly.

 

He ignored you when you brought him coffee, when you told him goodnight, when you asked about his day, when you literally did _anything_. It was almost as if he didn’t even see you.

Of course, that ended up leading you to believe that he had simply lost interest. It was hard to imagine at first, it seemed far too sudden for that. But as November went on you simply couldn’t think of anything else. There just _wasn’t_ anything else, not as far as you could tell. For a little while you entertained the idea that he was cheating on you and was trying to hide it, but you were sure that he would’ve just told you rather than act secretive.

 

_So then why isn’t he just telling me that he doesn’t want to be with me?_

 

It didn’t make sense, but you simply couldn’t continue to live like nothing was wrong, so you just settled for accepting that he wasn’t interested anymore.

 

Once, in the middle of the night, you had nearly walked in on a fight between him and Mokuba, and had foolishly paused to listen. They’d yelled at each other for a good ten minutes, and just about everything you had heard only seemed to confirm your conclusion. You’d spent a good hour crying, then telling yourself that you’d just have to end it on your own, and then cried even harder.

 

Logically, that would have probably been the right thing to do, to end it yourself. You might not have had anywhere to go, but you knew you could figure something out. However, after a week’s worth of failed attempts, you stopped trying. Somehow, it didn’t seem right. Somewhere, deep down, you just... _knew_. You knew it wasn’t supposed to end like this, the feeling was all wrong. There was something else to it that you weren’t seeing.

 

Which was what you were contemplating as you held your head in your hands, leaning on the counter as your eyes stared blankly through the windows of your café. _What isn’t he telling me? I really don’t think he’s cheating... He doesn’t have time for that. And lying to me would just waste more time._

 

Tina had put herself to work in the back, so you were alone up front, only a small handful of people still sitting around. The only thing that roused you from your thoughts was the bell chiming as the door swung open, forcing you to look up in case someone was entering rather than leaving.

 

Your stomach immediately churned and dropped, and you could feel your hands start to sweat.

 

After Seto had thrown Rex and Weevile out of the café you used to work at, you hadn’t seen hide nor tail of either of them, and you hadn’t complained. Seto had also enforced a strict restraining order so that neither of them were allowed within so many feet of your café.

 

And Rex just sauntered in, accompanied by four very intimidating look men in suits.

 

Your right hand, which had already flown underneath the counter, immediately pushed the hidden panic button, which went straight to Seto’s office. But even as you let go of it, you were already afraid that he’d just ignore that, too.

 

The suited men, bodyguards by the looks of them, quietly persuaded any customers left to exit your store, locking the door behind them. Once it was empty, Rex’s full attention was on you.

 

“I must say, I’m impressed. This is quite an improvement,” Rex mused, looking around in mock satisfaction. “Too bad I’m not allowed to stop in and say hello anymore.”

 

You swallowed, hard, and lifted your chin. “What do you want.” It hadn’t really been intended as a question, you were just trying to sound as intimidating as his men looked.

 

He smiled at you, pointedly looking you over, his eyes hovering around your chest. “I’ve heard rumors, you know. You and that second rate duelist Kaiba are _together_. Funny, right?” His laugh sent chills over your skin, before it abruptly stopped. “I don’t like it.”

 

As he began to take careful steps towards you, his eyes seeming to ravage you desperately, you took equal steps away from him, until your back was literally against a wall. Suddenly, rumors flashed to the forefront of your mind, and you were immediately positive that the men he’d come with were, in fact, members of the Yakuza.

 

Generally, they were a tightly knitted gang, and operated under strict rule. They were basically mainstream in Japan, they weren’t really a secret to anyone, and had a firm hand in politics and the criminal business. But, with any interest group, there’s always a few stragglers that don’t want to follow orders, and it was very apparent that Rex’s group was that. You could easily tell, even from where you were standing, that at least three of his men had either partially or fully missing pinky fingers. That being the punishment for disobeying the boss, if one does something that is not allowed, they are to cut off parts of their own pinkies.

 

And obviously, you were now being confronted with a group who had no intentions of following orders. Because what they were doing would absolutely take another section of their fingers, no questions asked.

 

But that didn’t stop Rex from pressing himself against you at the hips, lifting your chin up with a firm hand. This time you were sure it was a reflex, you didn’t even think before you brought your arms up and made to shove him off and away from you. And even as he regained his footing, the click of several guns echoed behind him.

 

This time you could only tremble in fear as he advanced on you again, this time holding you down with his fingers tightly around your neck. “I want you to know that he doesn’t intimidate me, and I am _not_ afraid of him. Hiding behind his coat won’t save you from me,” he leaned in, and you whined as his breath brushed against your skin. “I _will_ have you, that’s a _promise_.”

 

Your eyes watered helplessly, and you were petrified. He was probably right. Eventually you wouldn’t have Kaiba’s protection, he wouldn’t be there to stop Rex forever. And you couldn’t bear to think of what Rex would do to you...

 

The door to the café suddenly was kicked open, and men began throwing themselves inside, disarming and pinning the unprepared Yakuza members. As they were pinned to the floor at gunpoint, Kaiba stepped in behind them, his own firearm aimed squarely at Rex’s head.

 

Tears had already started falling down your cheeks, but you could still see the blurry image of him surrounded by the afternoon light.

 

“If you don’t remove yourself _immediately_ then I’ll do it for you.” His eyes narrowed harshly at the boy who still was pressed against you.

 

Rex only smiled. “You do know that if you shoot me, it’ll get to the press, and it won’t be about how you saved your girlfriend~”

 

Kaiba was _not_ threatened. “Move! Or I’ll blow your goddamn head off!” When Rex scoffed and brushed aside his threat, Kaiba didn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his shoulder.

 

The loud clap of his gun startled you, and your hands flew to your ears as you cried in fear, sinking to the floor as Rex jerked and howled in pain. From your spot on the floor you only heard a few words from either of them before Rex was escorted harshly out of your café. Before the door was even shut you felt a pair of hands on yours, trying to pry them away from your face.

 

Your head was spinning and your breaths were violently ragged, but even through the deafening ringing in your ears, you could still make out his voice, asking if you were all right. He sounded a little panicked, but you were far too upset to answer, still caught up in your fear. Even as he cupped your face and raised his voice you shook your head, throwing yourself into him as you wailed and clung desperately to his shirt. Somewhere in between your sobs you managed to confess, “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come”.

 

He stiffened in your iron grip, then worked gently to put enough space between the two of you so he could look you in the eye. As his hands held your cheeks, and yours grabbed at his wrists, he hardened his gaze and spoke slowly. “I will _always_ be here when you need me.”

 

Somehow, it sounded like more than a promise, and despite everything, you believed him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really simple chapter, but I really like it.

Your café was shut down for the remainder of the afternoon and Seto had insisted that you stay with him at all times. Of course you didn’t complain, you always felt safer around him, and you’d rather be holed up in his office than alone at home anyways. You just wished that you didn’t have to listen to him yell threats over the phone for almost an hour.

 

Admittedly, Rex Raptor wasn’t someone to be afraid of, not on his own. He was a cowardly little rat that hid behind his gang members and posed as top dog. Oh no, if you got his ass alone in a room you’d kick it halfway to the goddamn moon. But he had a gang of thugs that would apparently do whatever he asked, so when he wanted something, he got it.

 

The only question was, what the hell did he want with you? He could want to use you as leverage against Seto, but that wasn’t how he made it sound. Honestly, it didn’t matter, and you didn’t care. As long as he couldn’t touch you, everything was fine.

 

Seto escorted you home that night around ten, and went straight to bed with you rather than sitting in his study. Somewhere along the way home, you both silently agreed not to tell Mokuba what happened, as Seto was quite sure the issue was over.

 

But just for good measure he had you take the limo to work and stationed a handful of bodyguards at the café, coming in himself for his morning, afternoon, and evening coffee for the following few days. There was hardly much in the way of conversation when he came in, but the silence wasn’t awkward, it just drove home the fact that the two of you really needed to have a talk.

 

Generally, you were straightforward with him about your feelings, especially when he was involved. But for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to confess that you were sure he had stopped being interested in you. It was a weird topic to begin with, and one that you thought would go smoother if he initiated, but either way you just wanted to get it over with. You were tired of worrying yourself over it, and you were sure that you were no longer hiding it so well.

 

Perhaps the only reason it even really hurt at all was because you were constantly inundated with couples loitering around the café, which probably had something to do with the season. Otherwise, you were positive that you’d be able to find a prince charming if you and Seto separated, because you’d accepted that you kind of still wanted that. And damn all of those adorable couples coming into your café and being cute and _coupley_.

 

It had begun to put you in a sour mood, and by the end of the week, you were scowling. You weren’t being rude to anyone though, but it was easy to tell that something about you was off.

 

When evening came, so did a crowd of late night outers, bundled in their coats and holding hands to share warmth. By the time you had gotten them all situated, having only Tina and one other employee there, you were ready to call it quits and just leave. But closing was bound to be a bitch, and you’d feel bad if you just left in the middle of your shift.

 

So, valiantly, you stayed, trying to find little easy tasks to keep you busy in case God forbid someone needed something. You hated being bitter, but if one more guy came up and asked for a straw because he wanted to share with his girlfriend you might scream. Eventually, you just grew tired of it, and nestled your head in your arms in defeat, pouting on the counter.

 

Your eyes began to habitually check the clock, waiting for 9:30 so that you could give Seto his coffee and be done with it. You really weren’t in the mood. And just like clockwork the door swung open, and you listened to the familiar murmurs and whispers as Seto approached the counter. Without looking up, you handed over his thermos, trying desperately to keep your eyes averted.

 

But you could feel him linger, and for just a moment you looked up. He was darting his eyes around the room, looking between each couple before moving on until he’d passed over them all and grunted. Then he looked down at you, and you’d been caught.

 

For a short moment neither of you said anything, but you could feel your heart ache and your eyes fall.

 

“I hope you know that none of it’s true. You really are lying to yourself.” As harsh as it seemed, his voice was soft.

 

Your eyes fell to your hands as they sat limp on the counter, and somehow you were sure he had known exactly what you were thinking. Suddenly he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, and you were startled in place, even as he leaned over the counter to kiss you. Even though you still weren’t sure if he was right, you melted anyways, leaning into his hand as it tangled in your hair and his lips worked against yours.

 

It was fleeting, but not quite short, and as he pulled away you weren’t left wanting. The look he gave you was assuring, even through the otherwise seemingly blank stare. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been paying attention, but now you were sure that he really had been right. You were lying to yourself, and you had been the whole time.

 

He walked briskly out of the café, and when people could no longer see him their eyes turned to you. You hardly noticed, you were too preoccupied with wondering _then what the hell_ is _going on?_

 

Now you were convinced that at least you’d been wrong about him not being interested, he wouldn’t have been quite so open in public if he wasn’t. But then why the sudden distance? Obviously you’d been right to think you were missing something, you’d been horridly wrong about the whole situation.

 

Closing up shop took far longer than it normally would have, as you’d caught yourself staring off into space more than a handful of times. But your driver was waiting patiently out front like you knew he would be, and you bid the two goodnight as you stepped out and went home.

 

When you shuffled inside you headed straight for the kitchen, finding your boyfriend at the island, scowling at his tablet with a fork in his mouth. You set down your things and clambered up on the stool next to him, laying your head down against his arm. It wasn’t until you’d finally gotten home that you realized how sore your feet were and how stiff the rest of you was in comparison.

 

“You wanna follow me around tomorrow while I fire a bunch of people?”

 

You lifted your head as your brow knotted. “You can’t fire a bunch of people, it’s too close to the holidays. That’s mean.” But you couldn’t quite help the smile on your face, he was being funny.

 

“And? I’m mean in general.” He kept scrolling through his e-mails, taking another mouthful of his dinner.

 

“Not to me, you’re not,” you replied, sounding prideful.

 

He scoffed. “Aren’t I? Perhaps I should try harder.”

 

You elbowed him in the ribs before stealing a bite of food for yourself, making a face at it. “Eeww, what is this?”

 

“Not yours.”

 

“It’s disgusting.”

 

“But more importantly, not yours. If you’re hungry there’s – why are you still eating it!”

 

You whined and turned away from him, giggling around your food. “ _I don’t know!_ ”

 

Eventually he did wrestle his food away from you, and you sagged back down against the counter in defeat. “How many people are you gonna fire?”

 

He finished reading before he answered. “I’ll quit when I’m satisfied.”

 

“You do that with everything.”

 

“And you’ve never once complained.”

 

Now your cheeks were turning red and you could see his lips pressing together to keep from smiling. But you were thankful that he was in a pleasant mood, it did wonders for your own. However, that still didn’t change the fact that a talk needed to be had. You just didn’t know where to start... “How did you know?”

 

He kept his eyes down, reading. “Know what?”

 

“What I was thinking?”

 

“You aren’t that hard to read.”

 

 _Oh great, like I need to be an open book._ For a moment you were quiet, burying your face halfway into your arms. “Then... if I was wrong, why are you being so distant?” As soon as the words escaped your mouth you knew what he was going to say, and quickly interjected before you interrupted. “I mean, I know you’re busy, and that’s fine. But this is different. You’re just... _ignoring_ me, especially when you don’t have to.” You didn’t raise your voice or lace it with self-pity or anger, the calmer you were the more receptive he’d be.

 

He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then locked his tablet and turned to you. “I’m not... _actively_ ignoring you. But I know that it comes off that way, even though that’s not my intent. I wish I could explain it you, but I’m really not in a place to do so. There’s just too much going on right now.”

 

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but at least you could count on his honesty, so for the time being, it’d be enough. Now you just had to fight the paranoia as you constantly wondered what it really _was_ about. You nodded solemnly, accepting his answer.

 

As an afterthought he added, “Give me until the end of December, then we’ll talk.”

 

Again, you nodded. You could wait that long, it would go by before you knew it, surely.


	17. Chapter 17

December literally couldn’t have gone by any slower, and you were pulling your hair out only two weeks in. It was awful, and your café was stressing you out far more than Seto was, but that still didn’t seem to help speed the days along any. Keeping your cheery attitude amongst all of the mushy couples wore you out more than anything, so whenever Seto did decide to stop in, you had no problem kissing back with just as much fervor, even if it was petty.

 

By mid-December his stress level went _way_ down, as the new releases were finished and ready to be marketed, which he put most of the control on the marketing department and generally left them alone. Once he had bitched at game development for the last time, he looked visibly happier, and also got home at a decent hour almost every night, which you were ecstatic over.

 

As the month dragged its feet along, sputtering out short bursts of light snow, you began to gear up for Christmas Eve, trying to figure out another gift. You didn’t want to top his birthday gift, you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate it since that had put him in some kind of state, but you didn’t want to show up empty handed either, it was unethical.

 

Normally you would’ve set time aside during work to plan, but because work was actually turning into real work, you didn’t have any extra time to spare. In fact, you hardly had the time to deliver Seto’s coffee, even though you always stole a few minutes to talk if he could when you knew you shouldn’t. It was running you ragged, along with your other employees, and somewhere in the middle of it you’d been asked to cater coffee for a local festival. And _that_ was going to come with its own set of headaches by default. _Bless Tina for covering that for me, I’m giving her a raise._

 

Although, you were obligated to show up, mostly to make sure that Tina wasn’t falling apart by herself. Also, Mokuba had really wanted to go, explaining that he was sure to meet a cute girl or two. You just made two mistakes. The first was spending so much time with Mokuba while the press was there, covering the event. The second, was letting them take a picture of you with Tina at the little coffee stand.

 

You had foolishly asserted your involvement with the ‘Kaiba family’ while simultaneously affirming everyone’s suspicions that you were the girl at the coffee shop that ‘Mr. Kaiba’ had been ‘all over’. Or so said the tabloids.

 

“I don’t why we don’t just come out and say it,” you sighed, setting the article down on Seto’s desk. “It’s not like we’ve been trying to hide it.”

 

He looked up at you briefly, quirking a brow. “You’re just mad because you got caught.”

 

You looked at him in astonishment. “Yeah well, it doesn’t exactly help that you try to make out with me over the counter every time you come in to get coffee. It’s not exactly subtle.”

 

Seto rolled his eyes and went back to reading his e-mail. “And when have I ever been subtle?”

 

There really wasn’t any way to argue with him, because he hadn’t ever _been_ subtle. He’s just boisterous and obnoxious by nature, so arguing wouldn’t get you anywhere. “Well then could we at least tell them just to get your crazy fangirls to back off? I swear they’re out to kill me.”

 

Without hesitating he answered simply, “I’m sure some of them are.”

 

Now you were a little worried. “I was just being facetious. They won’t... _actually_ kill me, will they?”

 

“They won’t succeed, but I’m sure that won’t keep them from trying, even if we do come out as official. That’ll just piss them off more.”

 

You huffed and dropped your arms heavily at your sides. “Well, nice to know I’ll be hunted for the rest of my life.”

 

He ignored you, which was probably for the best, it forced you to drop the subject and go back to work like you should have ten minutes ago. You kissed him goodbye and left sourly, already dreading the rest of your shift. It didn’t help that you were getting disgusted looks from girls all day long, and they always talked loud enough for you to hear.

 

Tina stood beside you with her arms folded while you pursed your lips, a small group of girls talking about how you were too much of a nobody to be with Seto while pointedly looking at you as often as they could get away with before it turned into blatant starting. Eventually you just got tired of it.

 

“If you’re going to continue loitering I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you chided, though still maintaining a professional tone.

 

Until one girl just went completely over the line. “Oh don’t be such a fucking bitch, you know as well as we do that he’s taking pity on you. I bet he hasn’t even told you he loves you. And he never will.”

 

If Tina’s widened eyes or clenched jaw was any indication as to how much those girls needed an ass whoopin’, you didn’t need to use it as justification. And you had already drowned out the whispers from everyone else.

 

You briskly stepped out from behind your counter and narrowed your eyes at the lot of them. “Alright, whore biscuits, out of my café.” And just for good measure you jabbed a finger at the door.

 

The mouthy one just reeled back in abhorrent disgust, looking you up and down. “ _Excuse me_?”

 

_Well if she’s deaf then I’ll just have to yell_. “Move it!” Your foot stamped on the wooden floor as you snarled, nearly seething.

 

From behind them the two bodyguards rose and held the doors open.

 

“Okay, ladies, move along please.”

 

Needless to say, you were able to blow off a little bit of steam, and that made the whole situation worth it. You were even able to completely disregard the comment about Seto’s lack of verbal affirmation that he could have been in love with you.

 

That was fine, it wasn’t really his style, and it was too soon anyway.

 

And if you kept telling yourself that you definitely wouldn’t cry over it.

 

* * *

 

 

“You really shouldn’t act out like that.”

 

Seto had insisted on driving you home after stopping by the café for his evening coffee, where he had gotten the whole story from Tina while you were in the back.

 

However, you felt wholly justified. “Was I supposed to just let them walk all over me?”

 

He growled under his breath. “You should’ve gotten the guards without mouthing off.”

 

You slumped back into your seat and scowled out the window. “I don’t want them to think that I won’t fight back.”

 

“You don’t have to sink to their level to get your point across.” He was angry now.

 

But you wouldn’t let that keep you from saying your peace. “You and I both know you won’t be around to protect me forever.”

 

As he came to a red light he almost slammed on the breaks. “What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean!”

 

As many times as you’d heard him yell, you still flinched away. But there simply wasn’t anything left for you to say, and you willfully kept to yourself while he drove, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. When he pulled into the garage, you stepped out of the car and made your way inside without waiting for him first, like you had always done before.

 

You took advantage of his tendency to loiter around in the kitchen for a few minutes before coming upstairs to change into your pajamas and ready yourself for bed, hoping to be under the covers by the time he joined you in the bedroom. You had just situated your pillows when he came through the door, but you were wrong to think you’d gotten out of it.

 

“Don’t think you’re going to bed without talking to me.”

 

You huffed, but curled up anyways, trying to think of something to say. Instead, you just glared at his side of the bed until he occupied it. He didn’t make to get comfortable, but he didn’t insist on you getting out from under the covers, either. “You know what I’m going to ask you.”

 

That was true, he wanted to know what your passive aggressive comment about him not being around to protect you meant. Which meant exactly what it said it meant. He simply wasn’t going to be around forever, so you should be prepared to defend yourself when he was gone. And even after you told him as much, he still wasn’t convinced.

 

“Why are you all of the sudden assuming that I won’t be around?” he pressed, his tired eyes still staring down at you as he loomed.

 

Truthfully, you’d wanted to avoid this particular subject for a while, since the beginning, even. And damn him for making you bring it up. “Because I’m not going let myself live in a delusion, where I just figure this is going to last forever. Because it won’t. And when it’s over, I’ll have to look out for myself.” The words still tasted bitter on your tongue, but you’d gotten them out.

 

Seto huffed and rolled his eyes, then slumped against his own pillows, his arms folding across his chest. “Well if you’re so unhappy then why don’t you go ahead and get it over with.”

 

_Oh that’s not fair._ You sat up as quick as you could manage, throwing the covers from yourself. “I’m not unhappy!” Maybe you didn’t mean to shout, but it was too late to bite it back. “Yeah, sometimes it sucks, sometimes I want to punch you in the face, and sometimes I ask myself why I ever let you put me in this position. But as shitty as it gets, it’s never been bad enough for me to just want to leave. I’m not going to sit here and expect things to be perfect, because they aren’t, and they never will be. Yes, you irritate me, yes, there are things you do that I can’t stand, and yes, you have the shittiest attitude of anyone I’ve ever met. But I’m here because I _want_ to be. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts, but I’m not going to lie to myself either.”  


The whole time you’d ranted he never once looked at you, keeping his eyes closed instead. But you could tell he’d listened tentatively, and waited patiently for him to say something back. You wondered to yourself if he was still as stubborn as when this whole thing began, if he was still willing to fight for what the two of you had, or if his backing off was a way for him to cope with wanting to let go. That was entirely possible.

 

After a long pause he sighed heavily, his breath coming out even and slow. As he opened his eyes, he spoke, “I appreciate that you understand how life works, and that things happen. But I wish you wouldn’t just assume that, because they can happen, that they will.” He turned to you, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so small under his gaze. “There’s still things we need to talk about, and we will. But for right now I... I need you to be patient with me.”

 

You shrunk in on yourself, feeling tiny and lost. He _was_ still fighting, and willing to continue to do so. He wasn’t backing away and letting go of the hard work you both had put into your relationship. But he was still asking for more time, putting off some talk until later, and you couldn’t figure out what that meant. You were tired of waiting, but you were more tired of fighting, and accepted his words with a small nod, your eyes cast down and away from him.

 

The only reason you didn’t cry was because you knew he’d feel it. It had been a long time since he’d held you so close.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, Geek Patrol.

December 23rd sprung up like a furious weed, and you were only informed of the night’s plans that morning at breakfast. Did you have other plans? No, not really. Maybe watch a movie by the fireplace with the boys. Did you mind having plans made? Generally no, on the rare occasions that Seto was spontaneous with dates the turnout was more than you expected.

 

Did you want to attend a rooftop party with a bunch of drunk businessmen to celebrate a successful holiday season for Kaiba Corp.?

 

Absolutely not.

 

You had nothing against parties, you had nothing against having a drink or two, you had nothing against praising your boyfriend when it was well deserved. But after the convention he’d dragged you to earlier in the year as his personal assistant, you didn’t want to be around his snotty corporate “friends” if given the option.

 

However, the setting would be wildly different, and both Seto and Mokuba had confessed that it was more of a club type party than any sort of even semi-formal event. And when they said club they had meant a full liquor bar, skimpily clad female staff (mostly classy, high-end prostitutes), and a DJ.

 

It was honestly quite beyond you.

 

“Why are you having a club party? I though you hated clubs. And why a staff of prostitutes? Is that really necessary? Since when have you been into parties?”

 

The barrage of questions was met only with a blank stare and a tired sigh. Mokuba ended up speaking for his brother.

 

“Seto only has it to gloat to other businessmen, it helps keep them on board with business deals. You’d be surprised at how long he’s kept some guys because they know they’ll get laid by one of the waitresses every year. And the only reason he goes is because he has to, it’s on Kaiba Corp.’s roof.”

 

In a lot of ways, it made a lot of sense. Seto knows how well sex can be used to persuade greedy businessmen, most of them had escorts when they attended any type of event. He might have loathed the idea himself, but if he could use it to keep business partners, he was not above hiring a one-night staff of women to willingly go home with older, rich, probably married men. He was a businessman, not an idiot.

 

You sighed and looked down at your empty plate. “Do I have to go?”

 

“That depends on how badly you want to keep other women away from me.”

 

_Petty jerk_. “Can’t you do that yourself?”

 

“I can ask politely and have them escorted out of the building, but not before they become a nuisance.”

 

_Fucking bastard._ “Okay fine, do you _want_ me to come?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Then you owe me a dance.”

 

“I _don’t_ dance.”

 

Maybe it was a petty, fangirly wish, especially since it was so out of character for him and would most likely make him uncomfortable. But you weren’t about to lie and tell yourself that you hadn’t imagined dancing with him in some sort of club setting. Hell, he was all leg anyway, and you were damn sure he could move his hips just as well on any dancefloor as he could in bed. The thought gave you chills.

 

However, you were more than certain that, supposing he did go along with your request, he’d be far beyond uncomfortable, and you really didn’t want to do that to him.

 

“Then will you at _least_ refer to me as your date this time? I almost slapped a bitch at that convention because she told me I looked too cheap to be posing as _your escort_.” You remembered that argument quite well, and didn’t want any sort of repeat.

 

Seto huffed slightly, mostly to himself. “Deal. Just don’t drink too much, and if you get needy you can wait until we get home.”

 

Mokuba threw a bitch fit over that one.

 

* * *

 

 

You had been reassured that the heating would be sufficient enough to make a coat unnecessary, even for December weather. Plus a rooftop packed full of moving bodies would help, but you didn’t want to chance it, and brought a light one anyway. Seto wore his usual gaudy white coat over his black turtleneck, and Mokuba went in a t-shirt.

 

_They’re insane, and after tonight they’ll also be sick._

 

That was fine, you’d have your coat, so if it turned out to be freezing cold, you’d be toasty.

 

Except you weren’t freezing cold when you got there. The heating lamps were like nothing you’d ever seen before. The shades were wide, the heating coils compact, and the warmth they gave off had your hands sweating in your gloves.

 

“Is there _anything_ your money can’t buy?”

 

Seto’s shoulders hunched very slightly, and his cheeks pinkened as he looked away nervously. You didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but you’d ask about it later.

 

Instead, you focused on the throng of people beyond the woman trying to offer Seto drinks while also ignoring you. She was gorgeous by nature, had a playboy body, and looked like a naughty speakeasy singer. There were other women dressed similarly walking around with small trays, weaving in and out of a mess of people.

 

There were just as many men as there were women, most of the men being either older or just around Seto’s age. The women were all young, evenly dispersed between the hungry males and even other women. It was an interesting array of a crowd, not one you’d really expect to be at one of Seto’s events. But he was full of surprises, as you’d learned, and perhaps he was just trying to appease to a particular sect of people you knew nothing about.

 

Mokuba left after taking a glass of champagne from the woman, easily immersing himself within a group of other girls to flirt and persuade to the dancefloor.

 

Which existed. There was a dancefloor, set up on one far side, with a projector screen behind it. The DJ was stationed next to it, working a steady base with music that wouldn’t quite pierce your eardrums. People were working on the dancefloor, twisting and grinding about. There were only a few older men there, who were only covered in women and not doing much dancing. The rest of the elder crowd was either flirting with women at the bar or sitting at the various lounge spots talking amongst themselves.

 

The whole scene screamed club, and Seto simply just did _not_ fit in. But that wouldn’t mar your ability to enjoy yourself, and you curiously followed him over to a set of round benches encircling a table, already full of beer bottles and cocktail glasses.

 

You could only stand listening to business talk for so long, and got up to get yourself a martini, thinking that maybe it would help you forget that you didn’t care about stock numbers. It didn’t, but tuning it out started to get easier. For a short while you watched people dance, then you let your head fall back to look up at the stars.

 

Even with all of the light pollution you could still make a few out, dim as they were, and they weren’t any less beautiful or curious. You got lost in training your eyes to find even dimmer stars, hunting for shapes and making up constellations. It made you feel a little melancholy, and you hadn’t even noticed you’d grabbed for Seto’s hand until he gently tightened his grip around your fingers. Your head lolled to one side, but he wasn’t looking you.

 

The conversation he had been having didn’t last but another minute, and you were roused from your thoughts as you heard his voice rise slightly in volume.

 

“Well, if it isn’t the Geek Patrol.”

 

_God dammit, Seto, I thought you stopped acting like a four-year-old when you turned five._

 

You sat up and looked to see who he was addressing, and was immediately rushed with various emotions. First of all, that spiky haired kid needed to tone it _the fuck down_ , there was no need for all that mess. Second of all, blondie needed a damn haircut, and his cheeky friend looked like a unicorn. And you weren’t even going to let yourself get too far gone about Miss Cleavage. Or why Duke Devlin was amongst the odd group of strangers.

 

Seto stood, holding his arm out and smirking slyly as the one up front smiled wildly. “I didn’t think you nerds would show up.”

 

“Well, we were all finally able to come together this year, it’s really good to see you again, Kaiba.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting years to come and crash one of these parties!”

 

_What the fuck is blondie’s accent?_

 

Mokuba showed up not a second later, his lips parted giddily. “Yugi! Téa! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys!”

 

The girl looked up and opened her arms for a hug. “Mokuba, you’re all grown up!”

 

_Who in the holy living fuck are these people_.

 

Your look of utter confusion must have been a tipoff, and the spiky haired kid inquired about you politely.

 

Seto introduced you formally by your name, and you noted the way he proudly stated that you were his girlfriend – earning looks from each member present, Duke’s being the only one of disgust and not complete astonishment. Then he enlightened you to other. “This is Yugi Moutu, King of Games.”

 

_Oooohh, this is the lil’ fuck that kicked Seto’s ass to the moon and back._ “It’s nice to meet you, Yugi~” You were then introduced to the others; Joey, Tristan, Téa, and Seto begrudgingly mentioned Duke. _What an odd bunch of people..._

 

Joey hadn’t dropped his look of utter disbelief, which was shared – on a much smaller scale – by Tristan. Both were looking between you and Seto as if something was horridly wrong.

 

The former spoke, his accent thick and foreign, “Ehh, Kaiba? I don’t wanna be rude or nothin’ –“

 

“Then keep your mouth shut Wheeler.”

 

“Well it’s just...” He trailed off, still flicking his eyes between the two of you.

 

Before Seto could open his mouth, Duke interjected. “I think Joey wants to know how the hell you ended up with her.” He turned to you and set his fists on his hips. “Sweetheart, you really could’ve done better.”

 

Truthfully, you didn’t want to get into any sort of confrontation with any of Seto’s actual friends, if they were such. You’d have much rather left the talking to him, and so you kept quiet and turned your gaze upwards.

 

“Frankly, it’s nobody’s business.” His voice wasn’t cold, it still had an oddly warm edge to it, but it was stern and final.

 

Joey looked sheepish, glaring sideways at Duke. “I guess I’m kinda happy to see that you grew up some is all.”

 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Capping her hand over his mouth, Téa answered for him politely. “He just means that you’re a lot more mature than you were the last time we really saw you and –“

 

Joey pulled away from her hand. “And even though you’re still a rich bastard, ya ain’t quite so bad~”

 

Seto rolled his eyes, then let them settle back on Yugi. “I suppose we might as well catch up.”

 

You watched Seto leave with the King of Games, and the other two boys had disappeared to the bar, leaving you with Téa and Mokuba, and mostly feeling awkward.

 

“So,” Téa began, smiling at Mokuba. “Is your big brother still a big pain in the ass?”

 

He sighed with a smile, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “Honestly, I’d be worried otherwise. But he’s getting better, I think.”

 

“Maybe it has something to do with his lady friend?” She smiled at you, and you couldn’t help the dusted blush that settled on your cheeks. “I’ve gotta give you props, none of us _ever_ thought he’d be the romancey type.”

 

You immediately blubbered out a response. “Oh he’s not, trust me.” Then you kind of felt bad. “But he’s got his own sort of charm. It takes a lot of getting used to...”

 

The three of you sat down on an unoccupied couch off to one side of the roof, and you freely talked about anything any everything, from your café to Téa’s dance hobby, all the way back to how awkward it had been for Mokuba to be around Seto during his puberty stage. It was light and pleasant, and you decided that you pretty well liked Téa, she seemed to have her morals straight.

 

You figured hanging around her for the rest of the night would be far more enjoyable than listening to Seto and Yugi bicker about old card games.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to make it explicitly clear that I don't like this chapter, I never did, I never will, and that's why it's so late. I'm entirely embarrassed by its childishness. So have fun and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

You very quickly came to realize what exactly the projector screen behind the dancefloor was for, as childish competitions started becoming the favored way to attract attention.

 

Kaiba Corp. had its own slew of games, not many of them anything but popular. It followed trends within various genres, complicating RPGs further, making first-person shooters far more realistic, and even fell on the level of making routines of its DDR counterpart much more dynamic and style based. The first time you had seen the latter in the game room at the house you thought it was a joke, a game that never passed beta testing because no one would take Kaiba Corp. seriously if they honestly made another Dance Dance Revolution knock off.

 

Oh how wrong you had been. You did play, as a joke at first, figuring that, since dance was not Seto’s forte, it’d end up being second rate anyways. But it wasn’t, and absolutely put DDR to shame. There were no arrows, no easy first time run. You had to put forth the time and effort to go through routines and an entire training section before you could even hope to complete a routine. It was like a virtual dance class, and was probably one of the few reasons you’d been able to stay in shape.

 

You weren’t really much of a dancer yourself, you were lacking the ‘swag’ to pull off a nice Hip Hop routine, and didn’t have the hips for most ballroom styles either. But somehow you couldn’t say no to Téa’s challenge or the chance to finally impress Mokuba with your ‘mad skills’, since the two of you had a running game to see who had higher scores. He was a really good fitness motivator, oddly enough.

 

Thankfully you had had enjoyed the game and was good enough to unlock almost all parts and songs yourself, having turned down the Kaiba Corp. cheat code that Mokuba had tried to bribe you with. No, you earned every point you got, every new song you unlocked, and every set of in game cheers. So you weren’t really worried about Téa picking a song you didn’t know, and grinned cheekily as Mokuba sidled up to the side of the stage to watch.

 

The first song was easy, mostly a warmup, and the only reason people went ecstatic over your subpar performance was because they were drunk. You and Téa went about testing genres and styles against each other, and nobody came up to ask for a turn in between the encouraging shouts of the mob to go again. By the time you noticed Seto and Téa’s group of friends had begun to watch, you were too full of adrenaline to care that you were making an ass of yourself.

 

It was fun.

 

In fact, you and Téa even got the boys in on it, excluding Seto, and the music taste very quickly shifted to the West, becoming quite Americanized. Tristan an Joey did an impressive bit to Usher’s “Yeah!”, and had an armful of ladies clambering up to the stage, affirming “you guys were _so_ hot!”. They had been fun to watch, more fun than awkward little Yugi, who was mostly just adorable in that way that he tried and didn’t quite get there. Mokuba basically stole the dancefloor after a while, doing a little bit of an ironic routine to “Bitch Better Have My Money” by Rihanna. You didn’t get back on the floor until Téa put on “Bitch I’m Madonna”, which you had a hell of a lot more fun doing than you thought you would. However, it put you way out of breath, and you gladly took the backseat again, content to watch the others.

 

After a sideline conversation you had been totally oblivious to, you watched Mokuba drag Seto center stage, and immediately became just as interested as everyone else. Joey whooped next to you while Yugi looked utterly at a loss for words, and Tristan made some comment about “Well of course he’s going to play his own games, you know how he is.” And that was true, he played every single one of his games through to the end, so hypothetically speaking, this one should be no different.

 

Seto Kaiba just didn’t dance. Period.

 

It was so against everything his personally made him to be, and yet he was willingly in front of a crowd of people, and just as the song begun, you figured out what was going on. He was sticking up for himself, in a subtle sort of way, showing off his prowess in his own industry. Sure, he was an excellent duelist, but Kaiba Corp. had long since evolved past just Duel Monsters, and Seto had to make sure he was just as proficient in everything else his company’s logo was plastered on.

 

So that meant kicking ass on the dancefloor.

 

The initial intrigue left as soon as “Uptown Funk” started up, and the lyrics were almost painful with accuracy. Yeah, the Kaiba brothers killed it, and for a split second you were fed up with just how god damn attractive Seto really was. But you were just too overwhelmed with astonishment, getting caught up in the rest of the group’s bewilderment and forgetting how angry it made you that he was so flawless at certain things that turned you on beyond the strength of your willpower.

 

It wasn’t until the setting began to feel like a poorly written awkward love story conjured up in the spare time of a sixth grader that you went back to the bar for another martini. Soon after Seto pointedly got off the stage and put a fair bit of distance between it and himself people began to leave, including businessmen and their waitress whores. Which was mean to say, none of them seemed at all trashy, and they were probably clean to boot.

 

While you sat down and rested your tired legs, you watched the festivities dwindle slowly away. Mokuba had come over to wish you a goodnight, and as he walked off with a woman on each arm you realized then why he had brought his own car. You weren’t exactly against him being actively sexual, but you didn’t think that it was a good way for him to cope with being single either. _Eh, whatever. I’m not his mother._

 

Except... you kind of were.

 

It was a thought that hadn’t really hit you before, not seriously. Sure, you played along and gave him motherly affection, that was just something you enjoyed doing and not because you felt any sort of obligation. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much of a mother figure you’d become to him, and that filled you with some conflictions, especially in the way of ‘what happens if Seto and I don’t last much longer’. You didn’t want to suddenly disappear from Mokuba’s life just because of something like that, you loved him, he was family. But now you wondered if maybe that was the only reason Seto kept you around...

 

Being alone with your thoughts probably wasn’t a wonderful idea, but you were too tired to make conversation, and the clock on your phone told you it was well past midnight. All you really wanted to do was tell yourself to stop worrying so much and go to bed.

 

Seto must have sensed this from across the rooftop, and was by your side within only a few minutes, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, it’s time to go home.”

 

You rose and followed him to the elevator, smiling graciously as he bid people goodnight and gave orders to his guards on the way out. The limo was waiting in the drive, and as soon as you were inside you laid yourself across his lap and happily dozed off.

 

* * *

 

When you awoke it was morning, you were in your bed, alone, and naked. The heater was on, you weren’t cold, and you saw your clothes from the night before folded neatly on your bedside table. For a moment you blissfully rose and stretched yourself out, yawning and rubbing your eyes.

 

And then you realized that it was Christmas Even and you had nothing to show for it. You panicked, briefly, wracking your brain for fruitless ideas. But then a thought occurred to you, that Christmas Eve was a day for couples, and since when had Seto really been all that coupley? Other than leaving you an occasional flower and taking you to dinner, he wasn’t much of a romantic, so would it be better to just not celebrate? Maybe, he probably didn’t have any intentions of doing much, if anything.

 

One less thing to worry about, you guessed.

 

However, you at least wanted to bring him coffee and spend a little time with him, you knew he wouldn’t mind that. So you took a quick shower and got dressed, then headed down to the kitchen to make coffee, nearly running into Mokuba. “Hey there Casanova, have fun last night?”

 

He grinned cheekily. “Yeah, one girl got in a fight with her boyfriend on the phone while the other one threw up in my car. I’d say it was quite successful~”

 

“Aww, I’m sorry. Better luck next time?”

 

He shrugged, then quickly began to stammer something out. “So uh, I know this is gonna sound bad, but Seto doesn’t want you visiting today.”

 

You reeled and turned a glower towards him. “Oh really? Well that’s just too damn bad.”

 

Mokuba whined to himself and continued. “No no no, he’s not mad, everything’s fine, I promise. Just... he needs time to get work done today. Please don’t go in?”

 

Generally Mokuba never put forth so much effort to keep you from seeing his brother, which was generally only something he did if Seto had made plans for you that counted on him getting all of his work done on time. He was never this fidgety and relentless over surprise dinners. “What’s gotten into you? I mean, you’ve already given away that you’re covering for him, but why are you so... anxious?”

 

He shifted his eyes a little. “I’m not anxious, just promise you won’t go in!”

 

You held up your hands in defeat. “Okay okay, I won’t go in.”

 

With a sigh, he smiled, his shoulders dropping. Then he perked back up a little and offered another little piece of advice. “Also, he wants you to wear the blue one.”

 

That meant a date, which was usually more than just dinner. Though, you could sense by the amount of Mokuba’s excitement, it seemed to be even a little more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Routines for all listed songs can be found on YouTube, I picked them with great care.  
> "Yeah!" Usher - Karon Lynn  
> "Bitch I'm Madonna" - theBobbyNewberry  
> "Bitch Better Have My Money" - Tricia Miranda  
> (These first three were filmed in the same studio.)  
> "Uptown Funk" - Souldance Studio


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the previous chapter, which I still think is terrible.

Seto was home from work around seven, and you had already been ready to get into your dress. But you gave him time to shower and put on a suite, and waited until he called for you, since he knew you’d need help.

 

You hadn’t seen much of his face after he got home, but the glint of nervousness didn’t seem to fit very well on him. However, he spun you around before you could say much of it, and carefully tied the blue ribbon around your neck into a taught bow, setting his hands on your shoulders to step back and make sure it was even. When you turned back around his cheeks were faintly pink.

 

But rather than prod him about it, you let it be, and reached up to twine his tie between your fingers, knotting it the only way you knew how. His eyes stayed trained on his cufflinks until he was finished, waiting until you were satisfied with his tie enough to tuck it into his jacket. When you tried to pull back he held you by your waist and kept you close. At first you thought he was trying to be affectionate, but you quickly realized that his was trying to steady and calm his breathing, using you as an anchor to do so.

 

_What is he so upset about_?

 

“Let’s go.”

 

He pulled away swiftly and offered his arm to walk you down the stairs, where Mokuba was waiting excitedly. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and practically shoved the two of you out to door, cheerily telling you to have a lovely dinner.

 

You didn’t recognize the restaurant the limo pulled up to, it was someplace new, but it didn’t look to be foreign, which was a relief. It was also apparent that the paparazzi crowd was only half its usual size, but they were no less annoying.

 

“Should I keep my head down?” you asked, even though you were already certain of his answer.

 

Seto surveyed the crowed for a short second, then wrapped an arm around you to get ready and help you out. “No.”

 

_No? What does he mean, no?_ Perhaps he was finally going to let it become common knowledge, and was tired of being harassed over it. Which was fine, you still held your head high and proud as he walked you up to the front doors, smiling gracefully as the crowed screamed questions and demands. He answered none of them, and didn’t look back even as he held the door open for you.

 

Once the noise was muffled and gone he confirmed his reservations and followed the host to a private table in the back, where the other surrounding tables were occupied with wealthy businessmen and either their wives or girlfriends. Of course, your table was still set slightly apart, just the way Seto liked it.

 

Dinner was easy, and the conversation was warm and intimate, which wasn’t something either of you got to enjoy very often. He was much easier to coax a smile out of now that the holiday stresses had all but left him, and the one subtle laugh filled you with mirth. It was during moments like these that you were reminded of just how much you loved him, and you were inwardly content.

 

Dessert was declined, though not of your choice, and when the two of you stepped outside, the limo was nowhere to be seen. As you began to protest and ask questions, Seto lead you down the drive and to the sidewalk, guiding you along the street.

 

“Where are we going?” you asked, pulling your coat tightly over your shoulders.

 

“You’ll see.”

 

Even though the situation seemed oddly unlike him, you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes followed the strings of lights across the trees and along the lamp posts. It was beautiful, and the gentle, light snow was a perfect touch. He held you tightly as you walked, and laced his fingers with yours as you clung to his arm, smiling up at the twinkling lights.

 

You crossed the street once, and turned a few corners, but eventually he stopped you in front of a building that flooded you with memories.

 

“My old café?”

 

He held the door open silently and ushered you inside, watching as you took in the changes. It wasn’t a café anymore, at least not in the way it used to be. They still served coffee, but with it they had tea and various desserts, which were all priced on a five star French restaurant level. The interior had been redone in a tasteful, classically modern Victorian style, with candles set on every chic, wooden or wrought iron surface. It was elegant and classy, which matched the beaming smile that was aimed at you from behind the far counter.

 

One of your old coworkers, Jin, whose skin always glowed with the sun kissed caramel of her Island heritage, had evidently taken the position of manager, and had done a wonderful job of revamping the whole place, down to even the unnoticeable details. She swayed gracefully over to meet you, holding her arms out. “It’s so good to see you again!” she chimed, smiling widely. “I’m so proud of you, too, I’ve heard all about your new café!”

 

You smiled back politely, not wanting to end up spending time chatting.

 

But Jin had dropped the small talk as soon as she had started it, and looked you both over, complimenting Seto on his handsome attire as she lead you to a secluded table with a view of the lights outside.

 

When she had left, you looked quizzically up at the other. “This seems a little beyond your prowess in romance. Did you know about all this?”

 

The blush returned along with his nervous hands. “Mokuba still comes here, he told me it was worth a look. It’s appropriate.”

 

_Appropriate for what?_

 

Jin returned with a hot mug of coffee for Seto and a small pot of your favorite tea, smiling knowingly. “Did you want dessert now or later?” she asked, looking at Seto as if previous arrangements had already been made.

 

He sent her off for dessert without consulting you, and you wondered if there was something going on that you were unaware of. “Is there something I should know? I feel out of the loop, here.”

 

Seto shook his head, and laced his fingers on the table in the way he did to steady his breathing. He was getting nervous again.

 

You still didn’t want to outright ask, that usually didn’t go well, but you did rest your hands over top of his. “Are you alright?”

 

After a quiet few seconds he nodded, turning his hands over to hold yours. “I’m fine.”

 

Dessert was brought in a large, shallow bowl, a thin peach cobbler with ice cream and two cherries. All but the cherries were finished within a few minutes, and then you were left with a cute little relationship reminder. He picked one up and elegantly put the whole thing in his mouth, which you took as a blatant dare. However, he was, again, able to beat out your one knot by two.

 

Jin only came by to refill his coffee, but otherwise left the two of you alone, putting herself to work elsewhere. You and Seto easily picked up on conversation again, and you couldn’t help but notice how much effort he was putting into keeping his composure. Yes, he was genuinely enjoying himself and your company, but that wasn’t enough to mask the edge he seemed to have.

 

Then all of a sudden he grew serious. His eyes softened as he brushed the tips of your fingers with his own, and his voice trailed off his last thought as it deepened. He closed his eyes, forced his breaths to even, and then looked at you fully and without a guard. It took a moment for him to work up the will to speak, but when he did his voice was soft and low, intimate and only for you.

 

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” he breathed, clasping your fingers tightly. “And I know I don’t show you the appreciation that I feel you deserve.”

 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and flowing with too many thoughts for you to even hope to control.

 

“But I worry that sometimes you take it to mean that I don’t care, and that’s simply not true.” His eyes fell down to your hands as he took another steady breath. “I’m not good with words or dealing with my emotions... but I want you to understand that I’m not taking this lightly.”

 

Being at a loss for words just wasn’t enough to describe how utterly moved you were by his honesty, and his willingness to open up and let you in, even if only a little. You continued to watch him closely, listening intently.

 

“I know we’ve fought a lot, and I’m learning from the mistakes I’ve made. Honestly, I’m just grateful that you’ve put up with me for so long.”

 

Here you interjected, gently, but firmly enough to get your point across. “I don’t put up with you, I don’t _have_ to. And I never regret staying as long as I have.”

 

For a split second he looked stunned, then his brows knotted together and he looked sad, almost as if his eyes might begin to well. He enclosed both of your hands between his own and brought them up to his lips, closing his eyes briefly as he once again got control of his shaky breaths. His next words were barely a whisper. “What did I do to deserve you.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Kaiba! Have some birthday sex, on me~  
> But if reading anything NSFW (classy or not) makes you uncomfortable, you can skip to the break without missing very much.

When the two of you got home it was fairly late, and you were plenty tired enough to go straight to bed. But as soon as the front door was opened you saw Mokuba standing at the ready, twice as excited as he had been when the two of you left. His eyes searched for a quick moment over you, then he grew displeased and turned his gaze up to his brother, where it darkened into a harsh scowl.

 

You felt Seto tense next to you, then whisper for you to go upstairs, insisting that he’d be there to join you shortly. The thought of lingering to maybe listen in crossed your mind, but a shower sounded far more pleasing, so you hobbled up the stairs and into the bedroom. You took extra care and time in removing your bobbypins, unzipping your dress, removing your stockings, and giving your face a nice pre scrub. You had only be in the shower for maybe a few minutes before Seto joined you.

 

He still looked upset, and you decided that you’d try and coax him to talk. He turned his back to you, running his fingers through his hair, and you perched on the ledge behind him, making up a little for the height difference. Your eyes trailed over the subtle contours of his lean muscles, and you gently reached out to place your hands on his hips, smiling as he shifted closer to you.

 

When he turned around his eyes were humble and warm, the sadness only faintly in the distance. He stood between your knees, leaned against his hands as they planted themselves firmly on either side of your hips, and softly brushed his nose across yours, smiling as you hummed. But as he dipped in for a kiss, you placed your free hand against his chest and kept his gaze trained on yours.

 

“Talk to me?” You watched his expression change, first from surprise, then to apprehension, and finally to guilt. He couldn’t look you in the eye anymore, and his head hung almost too low for you to see beyond his lashes. “I’m worried about you...”

 

With a sigh he tucked his head in the crook of your neck, shaking it back and forth. “Don’t be, we’ll talk soon.” Then he pulled back to look at you again, smiling slightly as he felt himself get lost in in the shine of your eyes. One of his hands rose up to move yours back onto the tile, and this time he found your lips without any hesitations, letting his nimble fingers tangle in the damp wisps of hair at the base of your neck as he tilted your head up to meet him. He kissed you deeply, slowly, and with a kind of passion meant to prove a point.

 

You melted beneath him, shuddering as your breaths labored, allowing only for quiet sighs and soft hums of contented pleasantness. But he only let the moment last for as long as it was worth before letting it pass, his hands gripping at your hips as his mouth worked in weak desperation, trying not to succumb to his hunger too quickly. His eyes opened and looked over you with a fierce intensity, silently pleading for permission so as not to sacrifice the gentleness he’d worked so hard to maintain.

 

When you rewarded him with a small smile and an equally pleading kiss his body seemed to tense and relax with renewed vigor. He held your gaze as he eased himself carefully into your warmth, his eyes glossing over with primal satisfaction as yours fluttered closed, your mouth parting with a high pitched gentle cry. Your hips tilted up as your legs parted wantonly, slight trembles working their way across your skin as you reveled in the first wave of heat.

 

He teased you with gentle kisses, his lips always parted ever so slightly and never quite fully on your own. The pace he set was slower than what you’d come to expect of him, but somehow more filling and deeper than you remember. Even from the beginning you were short of breath, every precise thrust enough to pull the air from your lungs. But somehow, despite him being in control, he seemed to be fighting for air just as you were.

 

Your body continued to tremble and beg of its own accord, never getting used to the feeling of how far he could thrust his hips. Each time was always like the first, and your bubbling cries, still gentle and soft, rose in desperation for something unknown. Part of you wanted to stay lost in the feeling forever, always gasping for air and never letting go. But more of you needed to see it through to the end.

 

And the end seemed so far off, almost like you could never reach it. You didn’t feel your body start to react, tensing like it had done so many times before, despite the feeling of the other being far _more_ than it had ever been. But the moment you felt him tense, his thrusts quickening just enough for you to feel, he tilted his hips and suddenly the feeling was almost too much.

 

Your back arched, shifting your weight and pressing your forehead against his. His eyes were still trained on you, watching yours flutter and silently plead. You could taste his ragged breathing, his throat rolling in a low growl as you whined and began to succumb to your end.

 

It wasn’t intense, nor did you see stars or a dulling white light. It just rolled gently through your veins, low and thick, not meant so much for you. But you shuddered, enough for him to know, even as he felt you clench and relax. You were focused now, meeting his gaze fully as the depths of his eyes filled with need.

 

You could feel him panting into your mouth as he swelled between your legs, and his voice strained around his breaths. Your own breathing began to thin again as you got caught up in his ecstasy, quietly encouraging him over the edge. You watched as his eyes fell closed, his voice calling out sweetly and thinning into a soft cry as he finished, his guarding walls crumbling around him for the first time.

 

When he opened his eyes again they were soft and heavy with regret, but still so full of warmth. He had wanted to say it so badly, because he was finally so sure that it was real, but had fallen short, the words dying in his throat. Instead, as a last desperate way to convey them to you, he became vulnerable and unguarded, hoping you’d finally see what he had tried so hard to show you.

 

Your heart warmed and you pulled him close, smiling faintly through your exhaustion. His walls remained down as he took you to bed, and he let you cradle him as you ran your fingers lazily through his hair, falling asleep long before he had even closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The sun shone harshly into the bedroom, and when you rolled over in a desperate attempt to shy away, you were met with a warm expanse of flesh that was not your own. You forced your eyes open, trying to blink away the lingering sleep as you looked up, surprised at being met with a lazy smile.

 

As happy as you were at not waking up alone – which hadn’t been a joy you’ve reveled in in quite some time – you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was well past ten at least. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

 

“You’ve been bitching at me for months to take a day off.”

 

That was true, you hated watching Seto work himself to death. “Are you sure the place won’t burn down while you’re gone?”

 

He thought for a moment, humming. “You know, you’re right. I should probably go in.”

 

You floundered quickly, latching yourself onto him. “Forget I said anything, you should definitely stay home.”

 

Seto obliged as originally intended, and spent the entire day at the mansion with you. The scarce times you saw Mokuba he looked to be sulking, but you never asked about what had happened the night before, or why he had been so upset. You figured it was a brotherly issue, and decided that you’d rather it be left that way, not wanting to get involved where you had no place.

 

For the entire day he set his phone aside, kept his laptop closed, and otherwise ignored his job, giving you his full, undivided attention. You appreciated it more than you could really say, and knew that you should enjoy it while he had the time to spare. But eventually the day came to its close, night falling in and quieting the house.

 

The two of you had ended up on the massive lounge bed in the theater room, with you curled up against his side and his arm around you. The movie had just ended and as Seto turned the projector off, a slight hint of déjà vu settled warmly in your stomach. It was here that he had decided to officially make you a part of his life, but one thing you didn’t know was –

 

“Why?”

 

He blinked and looked over, confused. “Why what?”

 

“Why did you decide to keep me around?” You had tried to keep the usually assumed accusatory tone from your voice, as you were only intrigued by the answer and not at all worried about other implications.

 

It was a question that you had only asked maybe another time or two, and he’d only ever responded with ‘because I wanted to’. Otherwise, you were left to just trust that his word was true and you figured that you’d wait and maybe try again later, hoping to get something else out of him. So far, it hadn’t worked.

 

Seto took in a deep breath, and cast his eyes around the room, not really focusing on anything as he thought. “Well, that depends. How honest do you want me to be?”

 

In many ways that was a fair question. Generally, Seto did things for himself, and was pretty self-centered most, if not all of the time, unless it came to Mokuba. Truthfully, you absolutely didn’t expect some gushy explanation, and was even prepared for a self-centered reason. “Brutally.”

 

For a moment he didn’t seem to like your answer, but he sighed and leaned back, working his words around in his mouth. “At first, I was just hoping that... I wanted to get you out of my system. I wanted to get over whatever pointless feelings I had for you, and I thought if I spent that kind of time with you, that I’d realize how much I didn’t want you around, and then I could let you go.”

 

 _Ouch_. But that very well fit Kaiba, you never really thought he’d have time to date, and dealing with things as soon as he could was always his style. It stung a little, though. “I take it that it didn’t work out that way.”

 

He huffed a little, smirking. “No, it definitely didn’t work out that way.”

 

You waited a few seconds, then figured you’d have to keep prodding. “So what happened?”

 

Seto was quiet for another moment, thinking again. “Well, I figured out pretty quick that you being around Mokuba did him a lot of good, and for a while that became my reason. It took me a while to admit to myself that I just... genuinely enjoyed having you around.”

 

You figured that, but that still wasn’t quite the answer you wanted. “But that’s what I want to know. How did I manage to catch the great Seto Kaiba?”

 

His answer was immediate. “Because you don’t put me on that pedestal.” He paused while he watched you take in what he said. “As much as I love being above and better than other people, and reveling in my ego, I don’t _have_ to do that around you. Because even when I’m not, you don’t see me any differently. Between being a household name, a multibillionaire, a top ranked world duelist, and a complete jackass, I’m always the same person to you, even at home.”

 

And that was all true. You had never, _ever_ put him on a pedestal, and that’s why you hated him so much to begin with, because you thought he’d put himself there, and kept himself there. But over time you’d learned that he really was human, he bled and cried and worked his _ass_ off just like everyone else. You didn’t treat him differently just because his name was everywhere, or because he had more money than God. You acted like he was just any other asshole you had to deal with on any regular basis, and he appreciated you for it. He knew that, even when he was at his lowest, you’d still see him simply as who he was, and he’d never sacrifice his power or confidence for showing you a softer side that most people assumed didn’t exist.

 

You were stunned for a few seconds, astonished that you had heard him say those words. But you were also relieved, thankful that he was truly being completely honest with you. And as you leaned against him comfortably, feeling him rest his head on yours, you sighed. “I love you.”

 

He might not have said it back, but you knew that at least he believed you.


	22. Chapter 22

You were glad to be back to work for the most part, and Tina was dying to know how the party had gone. Of course, you didn’t include all of the details, but you were generally pretty open with her, and retelling the whole thing helped the time fly by on the days you divulged new bits of information. That was kind of nice, particularly today since Seto had said he’d be out of his office for most of the day, so you couldn’t take up his afternoon coffee and waste a good fifteen minutes.

 

The café quieted around six, and stayed pretty empty until a few people came in around half past seven, most of them in a cohesive group of boys. They all got some form or another of hot coffee, and took up residence at a larger table, keeping to themselves. Otherwise, you didn’t have much to do.

 

Eavesdropping wasn’t really professional, but if you could manage to pull it off while keeping an innocent face, it was fun sometimes, if not otherwise generally boring. Apparently the group of boys had been in the middle of discussing some girl, or girls, which was typical and to be expected. But the one time you chanced a glance over in their direction, they all averted their eyes from you and Tina, who had eagerly joined in.

 

You turned to her, smirking. “Well, this is a nice change of pace.” Usually you didn’t get any sort of male attention, you weren’t exactly a “looker”, but you were still pretty. You just didn’t have the ‘it’ that allowed you to really play the field, it never really worked out. So you weren’t going to pretend that they weren’t stroking your ego, pale as it was in comparison to Seto’s.

 

After maybe half an hour they all stood, as if to leave, then talked quietly for a moment, debating. At this point you had stopped paying them any attention, and had went on to frost cupcakes to put in the fridge for the night with Tina, hoping to ease the prep work for the opening crew the next morning.

 

“Hey, uh, miss?”

 

You looked up and around, putting on your cute little smile. “Did you guys need something else for the road?”

 

They all looked a little sheepish, smiling and laughing a little. Then the one up front spoke again. “Uh, no. Actually, we uh...” he hesitated, and looked behind him as if to hide his obvious embarrassment. The others behind him kept nudging him, and he finally spoke again. “We were just wondering if uh... we could take you ladies out sometime.”

 

The smile that spread over your face simply couldn’t be helped, and you shared a moment of surprise with Tina, who looked just as flattered.

 

“Well,” you answered, “I’m sure _she’d_ love to take you up on that offer.” You gestured to Tina, who fluttered her eyelashes playfully. “I, on the other hand, am taken.”

 

They all kind of deflated, looking between each other, but their smiles never quite faded. One of the ones in the back stepped forward, only slightly more attractive than the other who had asked, and carried a thicker air of confidence.

 

“What would it take for me to change your mind?”

 

Here you laughed, Tina with you, and you could sense the boys starting to puff out their chests a little.

 

This time, Tina beat you to the punch. “Sorry boys, but she’s got a pretty tight grip on her.”

 

The one scoffed, shifting his weight as he tried to accentuate his hips. “I bet’cha I could talk him down, convince him for at least _one_ date~”

 

Opportunities had come and gone all your life, some you regretted letting slip by. This would not be one of them.

 

“I suppose if you’re so sure I could give you his card,” you replied, keeping your voice light and impish. Seto had given you a small stack of business cards for a plethora of occasions, usually to give to prying businessmen. You fished one from your purse and handed it over, waiting for the boys’ expressions.

 

He took the card from you, looked at it for maybe half a second, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s cute. But seriously, if you want a _real_ man –“

 

Now you posted up. “Oh what, Kaiba isn’t a real man?”

 

They all snickered, laughing until the boy spoke again. “Of course not, all he does is sit in a chair and boss other people around. How much you wanna bet I could kick his ass?”

 

You hadn’t heard the bell chime above the door, and you missed his looming frame as you had been so focused on the boys.

 

“That depends, how much do you think my time is worth?”

 

Watching them all slightly jump and turn around was kind of funny, and most of them kept their mouths shut and backed off, sidling around Seto and making for the door. The one who stayed, having made the statement, looked up confidently and squared his shoulders. You and Tina happily took a backseat, each crossing your arms.

 

“Frankly,” he said, “I don’t think your time is worth _shit_.”

 

Seto didn’t bat an eyelash, and stared down on him not in a way unlike he used to do with you. “Well that’s too bad, because you’re both wrong, and wasting it. Now back off my girlfriend.”

 

The boy’s eyes bulged a little, and he quickly whipped his head around to stare at you. “You weren’t joking?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Maybe he’d sneered on his way out, but he gave Seto a reason to practically growl at him in passing, glaring until the lot of them were out the door and no longer in sight. Then he turned back to you and softened his stare. “How often does this happen?”

 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “First time, actually. I thought you were gone?”

 

He took a seat as close to the counter as he could get, pulling out his laptop. “Just got back. Some asshole cut the meeting short, now I have to leave again tomorrow.”

 

As Tina put the cupcakes in the fridge for the night, you poured Seto a cup of coffee, warning that it wouldn’t be quite as strong as he was used to. He took it regardless, motioning for you to sit with him as his eyes stayed focused on the screen. “What?”

 

He blinked once or twice, scowled, then looked up at you. “I just wanted to give you fair warning that I’ll be gone all next week. There’s a convention in the states I need to be present for.”

 

Your heart didn’t immediately deflate the way you had expected, and then a thought came to mind. “I don’t suppose you’ll need a date?” The smile you gave him wasn’t cute so much as it was pleading.

 

Seto looked you over, thought for a moment, then sighed heavily and looked back down at his computer. “It’s an entire week, last time you could barely last a few days.”

 

“Do you honestly think I’ll be better off stuck at the house with Mokuba?”

 

“Do you expect me to leave him there by himself?”

 

“Well... yeah...”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Oh come on!” You could see his point of view, though, if Mokuba was left to himself for the entire week, there would be parties, women, alcohol, and all sorts of unsavory things that neither of you would want to come home to. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be stuck with him because then he’d go _out_ seeking parties and women, which could end up being far worse. “What if I got him a babysitter?”

 

For the moment you’d been quiet, Seto had went to ignoring you, but his expression quickly changed to confusion as he looked back up. “You’re joking, right?”

 

“No. If I found someone for him to stay with, could I come?”

 

He seemed to be fighting with himself, torn between his scarce options. Finally he rubbed his temple and groaned. “If you can find someone willing to keep an eye on him, I’ll let you come with me. Otherwise, you’re staying home, got it?”

 

You could totally manage that.


	23. Chapter 23

At first, getting Mokuba on board to stay with someone wasn’t all that easy, and he fought you nearly every step of the way. Eventually, you had to use your ‘Mom Voice’ on him, which he’d never really heard from you before, and that ended up working like a charm. You even let him pick who he wanted to stay with after that.

 

“Téa.”

 

That was a little surprising. “Téa? Are you sure?”

 

He nodded firmly, a small smile on his lips. “I know Seto likes her enough, he won’t argue.”

 

Which was fine, except why would he argue all that much anyway? “Why would he argue? It’s not like he can control you half way around the world.”

 

Mokuba grimaced a little sheepishly. “Well, he’s heard stories every time he’s had to leave for an overseas trip and left me with Yugi or Roland. Besides, Téa’s helped save my ass a few times.”

 

_She’s done what now?_ That was a story for another time, however, and you let it pass since Mokuba was being so gracious as to not fight you on having to be looked after anymore. Part of you had expected him to throw a tantrum and bitch about being left alone for a week, but if he was going to take it so well you’d rather quit while you were ahead.

 

The end of the week was spent hounding Seto about where the two of you would be going and what attire would be required of you, then spending hours with Mokuba shopping to try and fill in the blanks. He had insisted on getting you at least one more business suit, and he absolutely wouldn’t let you turn down the handful of dresses he couldn’t shut up about. And when he heard about the day you two would be spending in Miami, you had to draw the line on the skimpy bikinis he had attempted to throw at you. All in all, it was at least successful, and you were packed and ready to go a whole day in advance. That gave you the opportunity to watch Mokuba help Seto pack, which was actually kind of hysterical.

 

“Mokuba, there’s no need for it.”

 

“Yes there is! What happens when there’s an impromptu red carpet event and you don’t _have_ your white suit? If I see you on TV wearing that fucking trench coat I’ll have a hernia.”

 

You sniggered helplessly.

 

“Then why are you making me take the Canali? They’re the same thing.”

 

“No they aren’t! You’re taking the Canali _and_ the Armani and I _dare_ you to fight me.”

 

Seto sighed irritably. “Alright, fine. So why the vest?”

 

“Because vests are sexy.”

 

“Mokuba –“

 

“I’m making her look nice for you, the least you can do is let me make you look good for her. Besides, I guarantee the vest will put you in the top five for ‘Japan’s Sexiest Men’.”

 

“You know how much I _hate_ being on that list.”

 

_Hold on a minute._ “Wait wait wait, how come I’ve never seen this? Where was I?”

 

Mokuba grinned proudly. “I picked out the suit he wore for that article~”

 

You floundered haphazardly. “I want to see it!”

 

Seto glared at you the entire time Mokuba was out of the room hunting down the magazine for you, and as soon as he returned the glare hardened.

 

You thumbed through the semi-gloss pages, eagerly pinpointing the tabloid page. When you finally found it, your eyes widened and your hand flew to your chest. “Hot _damn_!”

 

“Shut up,” he hissed.

 

“Oh fuck you, you look _hot_! No wonder you’re such a damn lady killer.”

 

“I am _not_ a lady killer.”

 

You ignored him, allowing Mokuba to finish getting him packed, and read the meat of the article. On down the list, you recognized another face. “Isn’t this Yugi that kid I met at the party?” You held up the magazine and turned around for the others to see.

 

Mokuba nodded. “Yup, it was the only year he made the list. And that’s only because it was after Battle Ci – _Ow_!” The boy rubbed at his arm, glaring up at his older brother, who’d just landed a pretty solid punch.

 

“We don’t talk about that.”

 

The situation just seemed to get really awkward really fast, and you decided to find something else to do. You knew there were plenty of things that Seto hadn’t told you about his dueling career, things he probably never would, and maybe a few things he’d reveal in time. You’d learned early on not to pry about those types of things, and to absolutely never ever _ever_ bring up Ancient Egypt. You never knew why, though, and it seemed a little bizarre. But it wasn’t worth the argument, so you never revisited the subject.

 

Since the holidays were over and Seto was back on track with his usual sleep schedule, he didn’t bother with work between the time he and Mokuba had finished and when he had wanted to go to bed. Instead, he devoted his last two hours with you, but not in the way you would have preferred.

 

“I hope you realize that this convention isn’t going to go over well for you.”

 

You blinked and looked up at him from under his arm’s iron grip, scowling slightly as you processed his statement. “Why would you say that?”

 

He didn’t hesitate much to answer. “Because you can’t speak English.”

 

After opening your mouth on reflex for a quick witted comment, you closed it slowly. He was right, you couldn’t speak English, other than the barest basics you’d learned in school. He could, however, and that’d be enough for you. “You’ll just have to translate for me.”

 

Seto didn’t exactly jerk, but you could feel his entire body rejecting your comment. “ _No._ If it’s business, you’ll be kept out of it. I’m not going to waste my time reiterating myself just to give you an opportunity to interject. If it’s necessary, that’s fine, but _I’ll_ decide what’s necessary.”

 

You couldn’t really be all that surprised, and perhaps it would end up working in your favor anyways. Not understanding English would just give you the chance to play cute little bauble, and smile away any horrid comments the women tried to throw your way. That would _really_ get under their skin. “Okay fine, I’ll play decoration.”

 

Again, you felt him subtly react. “If that’s all you’re going to do then why are you even coming?”

 

Honestly... _Because if he’s not here to protect me then I’ll be wide open bait._ Somehow, though, you couldn’t get the words out, and as images of Rex sauntering into your café flitted through your mind, you clung desperately to the fabric of Seto’s shirt. It wasn’t like you didn’t believe that his security guards could protect you, but it just wasn’t the same.

 

However, the thought of being a burden to him on his business trip only just crossed your mind, and the guilt began to settle in. It was entirely possible that any and all accommodations he’d have to make for you could seriously bite into his time. Maybe you shouldn’t go after all. “I’ll stay home with Mokuba.”

 

This time his body sunk, and he sighed heavily. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want your company, but there are certain things that’ll need my undivided attention. If you came with me I’d probably end up having to send you home a few days early without me.”

 

That was fine by you. “How long can I stay?” you asked, though probably far too eager.

 

Seto shook his head. “I don’t know, and I won’t until last minute.”

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Finally, he looked at you. “Why are you so adamant about coming?”

 

You should probably just tell him... “Because I don’t want to be here by myself.”

 

“You won’t be, Mokuba will –“

 

“It’s not the same.”

 

“It doesn’t matter –“

 

“Yes it does!”

 

“What is _wrong_ with you – ?”

 

“ _I’m scared!_ ”

 

There. You said it.

 

He didn’t seem to judge you, not outwardly, but he didn’t seem convinced either. Then it dawned on him. “Oh come _on_ , you’re not still worried about that Yakuza _joke_ , are you?”

 

And that set you off. “I am because I _should_ be! He could’ve raped me and you were only across the street! What happens when he figures out you’re across the damn ocean!” You didn’t mean to yell, but when your voice kept rising your fear joined it, and you suddenly began to realize how true your own words really were.

 

Except, Seto didn’t seem the least bit concerned. “My guards are perfectly capable of keeping you safe.” And then, he softened. “But if it’ll make you feel better, you can come with me and stay as long as I can let you. But you _will_ have to go home early, so you’ll still be alone for a couple of days.”

 

“A couple of days is better than a whole week.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than usual, but I didn't have anywhere else to stop and I didn't think a thought out sex scene was necessary.

You let Tina know that you’d be away for a few days, and would inform her of when you’d be back as soon as you knew. None of your other employees complained – at least not outwardly – and you left with Seto without a thing to worry about.

 

You slept in the car ride to his personal hanger, and he only woke you to get onto the plane. Again, you were slightly taken aback by the whole thing.

 

The last time you flew in one of his private jets, it was much smaller, more compact, and far more impressive than you thought it had any right to be. However, this thing was larger, slightly more commercial, and seemed even cozier by a standard you were sure didn’t exist. As you looked around you realized the difference, the last plane had been a Learjet, this one was a Gulfstream.

 

And while the difference wasn’t much of a difference to you, it had obviously been enough of one for Seto to have both.

 

“Why didn’t we take the other one?” you questioned, finding a couch to sprawl upon.

 

He joined you quietly, pulling your head up to rest in his lap. “It can’t go overseas. This one can.”

 

_Oh right..._ You were asleep.

 

* * *

 

When you woke and inquired about the time remaining, you deflated with a groan. It wasn’t even half over. But the smell of cooked breakfast wafted under your nose and perked your spirits, and you eagerly ate with the hope that a full stomach would clear your mind. And when it did not, you turned to your boyfriend for entertainment.

 

“So what’s this whole convention thing for, anyways?”

 

He looked at you from over his cup of coffee, took a pointed sip, and then set it down on the table in front of him. “America is a big buyer for Kaiba Corp., and if I don’t show up to the weeklong after party it hurts their feelings, and then they stop doing business.”

 

A laugh escaped you. “Since when did you care about _anyone’s_ feelings?”

 

Seto pressed his lips into a thin line. “I care about yours, don’t I?”

 

“Yeah, _sometimes_. But catering to strangers has _never_ been your thing.”

 

“I’m not catering, it’s just business.”

 

You rolled your eyes from your own table, which was across the cabin from him. As your eyes fell to the window, and you looked at the passing clouds, you began to feel a creeping sense of melancholy. After a moment, you heard him speak again.

 

“And it’s not just sometimes, it’s _always_. You know that.”

 

Somehow, you weren’t sure if you did. But that didn’t mean you didn’t appreciate him at least saying something at all.

 

* * *

 

The plane landed well after the stars had come out, and the limo was already parked and waiting for you. You stepped out onto the tarmac and stayed close, keeping one hand wrapped somewhere around his arm. Otherwise, your eyes wandered constantly.

 

The airport was huge, like, big city Tokyo huge. And there were commercial airliners all over the place. But that didn’t really seem to be all that weird, and before you knew it, Seto was dragging you to the car and all but shoving you in.

 

You were plastered to the window the entire time, pointing things out and asking questions. He answered with short, simple responses, but you were too caught up to care. _What’d he call it? Los Angeles?_ Whatever it was, it was gorgeous, and bright and colorful and full of life. You were still a little awestruck when the limo pulled in front of your hotel, but you eagerly followed Seto out and into the lobby.

 

The woman behind the counter greeted you, but you weren’t exactly sure what she had said other than “hello.” Though, you were a little startled by Seto’s immediate reaction and complete switch of accents. He didn’t hardly even sound Japanese anymore.

 

You waited patiently, looking around and noting how not different the hotel seemed to be from any other fancy hotel. In fact, it was even _less_ fancy, which was a little disappointing. _Oh well._ You were handed a room key, and diligently followed Seto to the elevator. This one didn’t require a card to get into your suite. _Well this is lame._

 

At least the room was posh and modern, a little sleek but still classy. The bathroom wasn’t quite as lavish, but that was fine. Your bags had already been brought up and set down in the bedroom.

 

“Well?”

 

You turned around and saw Seto leaning against the doorframe of the master bedroom, his arms folded loosely across his chest. You bit your lip a little. “It’s not... Japan. But it’s still kinda fun~”

 

He didn’t buy it, but didn’t otherwise mention it either. “The states aren’t quite there yet. It’s one of the reasons I only come here when it’s absolutely necessary.”

 

That sounded about right, and you could fully appreciate his reasoning. Perhaps he had caught on that you were a little bit let down, because he made a spontaneous decision to take you to dinner.

 

The sex was pretty great, too.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure if I like the way the next few chapters pan out, but hopefully this one isn't so bad.

The trip was ultimately going to last eight days for Seto, but it was pointed out fairly early on that you’d _most likely_ be leaving on the night of the sixth day, which would be Thursday and not totally set in stone, and he’d be home Saturday night, quite late. That was all right, though, you’d only be home by yourself for two days _probably_ , and you’d arranged for Mokuba to be home with you.

 

The first two days were literally nothing but dinners full of people kissing Seto’s ass and meetings where younger, entrepreneurial men tried to get a cut of his profits for the next holiday season. He did end up explaining that generally these meetings were for reps from Microsoft and Sony to duke it out and see if they’d get exclusive rights to his upcoming games. Rarely did he ever have a game with both companies, instead preferring to give it to neither and complain about how utterly childish they were acting.

 

For those, you wore your professional business suits and kept your mouth shut. You didn’t know jack about PlayStations or Xboxes, or even what the fuck Blizzard was supposed to be. You even spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out how the _hell_ to pronounce Ubisoft. Generally, you just ended up looking pissed off and irritated because you didn’t know what was going on, and wouldn’t be allowed to inquire until the meetings were over.

 

On the third night you packed everything up and got back in the Gulfstream, which took you to New York, as in the city. Had you not been so exhausted you might have squealed in excitement, but as it were you only hummed in approval before nodding off entirely. When you woke next, you were already curled up in bed with your boyfriend.

 

Nobody ever thinks of San Francisco as having the same magical charm as New York, so now you were far more excited and engaged with your surroundings. This city wasn’t nearly as disappointing, and reminded you a lot of home. Except home was cleaner. And didn’t smell quite so awful.

 

But you didn’t _dare_ complain, Seto would have your ass back on a plane before you even knew what’d happened. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t warned you, he did, and you were sure he was only waiting for you to give him reason to send you home early.

 

You just simply weren’t going to give him that pleasure.

 

Oh no, you would endure. Even though you _knew_ the bitch across the dinner table was talking _shit_ about you, you’d smile and continue to remind yourself as to why she was so jealous. Why they were _all_ jealous.

 

Seto Kaiba was yours.

 

Yes indeed, you thought it proudly, and perhaps it made you look a little smug – which only seemed to piss them off more so than they already were – but you didn’t care. As far as you were concerned, you’d earned the right to be proud of it. How long had you put up with his bullshit? How long had he treated you like less than what you deserved? How many nights had you spent screaming at yourself to get over him, all of which had been in vain? How often did you end up sleeping in a half empty bed because he just decided not to come home from work?

 

Too long and _too damn many_ that’s what.

 

“What are you smiling about?”

 

You looked up, startled. “What?”

 

Seto looked bored, his gaze even and heavy. “You looked angry two minutes ago and haven’t said a word.”

 

Oh. _Just talking to myself in my head. You know, since I can’t talk to anyone else. Even you, jackass._ “Nothing.”

 

His eyes narrowed, but he dropped it and turned back to the man he’d been talking to, which so far had been the only one to show up.

 

Apparently you were at some big pregame dinner, a hype even to get people excited for whatever the show was. The table you were sitting at, in the main ballroom of some fancy hotel, was large, and easily sat at least twelve people. But so far it was just the five of you, since he’d come with two women, and the rest of the name cards sat vacant. However, that didn’t end up lasting very long.

 

Within at least ten minutes the rest of the seats were filled, and at least one or two of the other girls looked like they could speak Japanese. Maybe you’d be able to have a conversation after all.

 

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

 

 

“No,” you replied, smiling as you turned to greet whoever had gotten your attention. She didn’t seem to stick out much, wasn’t overly gorgeous, but she was pretty. It was also evident that she was at least a little American, so maybe she could translate for you.

 

She sat down next to you, smoothing out the skirt of her dress while her date took the seat next to her. “Are you escorting Kaiba?”

 

 _Oh great, this again._ “No, we’re dating.” Your tone was flat and void of emotion, hoping that’d keep you from sounding either offended or pompous.

 

The woman nodded her head slowly in what must have been realization. “I see, so you two are _still_ dating, then. There’d been rumors, of course, the fangirls like to live in delusions.”

 

For a brief moment you thought that maybe you could find some sort of ally in this girl, who obviously set herself apart from the mentioned group of crazed females. “Trust me, I know.” When she smiled with amusement you couldn’t help but respond in kind, it was relieving to know that not all women were out to get you.

 

The dinner was long, and interrupted periodically for some guest speaker to announce themselves and ramble about only God knows what. Because you certainly didn’t. You really were trying not to be bitter about the whole thing, but your new friend hadn’t been much more versed in English than yourself, so you were at a loss. If it hadn’t been considered rude, you would’ve just talked over them with her.

 

But as the dinner progressed, and Seto became less and less aware of your existence, you became a little more acquainted with a few of the other women at the table, who all seemed to share the same notion of not being crazy fangirls. They didn’t accuse you of whoring yourself out to him, or “brainwashing” him, as you’d been blamed for in the past. You were actually able to have a normal, _civil_ conversation for once, and it really helped the night move along.

 

“The girls are going to step into the bathroom for a minute to get away from this noise, would you like to join us?” Yuko – as you remembered her name being – very politely made sure to keep you included.

 

You gave Seto a brief heads up for your absence, and quickly followed the other girls away from the table. As you followed behind you noticed that their elegance every bit as much screamed of wealth and power as you’d become familiar with back in Japan. They certainly looked the part... It didn’t matter, you had to pee anyways, wine seemed to go straight through you.

 

The ladies room was empty when you got there, and once you did your business – fighting with your dress as you went – you sat down in one of the plush lounge chairs. The other girls stood around and went about reapplying their faces.

 

“So,” Yuko started, brushing out her eyeliner. “How’d you get involved with him anyway? I never took Kaiba for the dating type.”

 

You giggled and the other girls looked on expectantly. “I didn’t either, and it kind of just... happened. Although, I think his brother had a lot to do with it.”

 

They all nodded a little in agreement.

 

Another girl spoke up. “What was it like in the beginning? I bet it was hard.”

 

“Yeah,” you mused, looking down at your hands. “He wasn’t easy to get along with even beforehand, but we know each other’s boundaries, and that’s helped a lot.”

 

Yuko finished and turned to you, her smile shifted to something not quite sweet or polite. “That’s all fine and good, honey,” she began to walk towards where you were sitting. “But we just want you to know that, despite whatever your little fantasy world tells you –“

 

_Of course, I really should’ve seen this one coming._

 

“– it’s not going to last. I’m quite confident that we all know him far better than you ever will. And if his previous romantic involvement is any indication, you won’t be around for very much longer.”

 

You sighed, bored with them now that they’ve revealed their true intentions. “Yeah? And what makes any of you think you could do better? Because last time I checked, none of you existed to him.”

 

As you made to stand and remove yourself, Yuko grabbed you firmly by the arm, the other girls huddling close around the two of you. You had a sinking feeling that they were a little more unfriendly than what you were so used to.

 

Yuko glowered at you, her nails digging into your skin harshly. “I’m sure back in Japan the girls were a little more reserved, but you’re in the states. We don’t play nice.”

 

The next few seconds registered almost too quickly for you to keep up. You felt Yuko jerk your arms away from her, causing you to stumble forward and past her. Then there was a sudden painful jab that caught you in the stomach, not enough to make you puke, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Then someone pulled you up by your hair, harsh enough to crack your neck in a few places, and then a hand was suddenly entering and leaving your line of sight, and not without stinging the entire left side of your face.

 

The world crashed down again when Yuko squoze your chin between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

 

“Don’t think we won’t get away with this, because we already have. Welcome to New York, bitch.”

 

They left the ladies room with just as much class as they had when they entered, and you were left on the floor, your arms wound loosely around your stomach. It took you a moment or two to get your breathing level and under control again, but once you did, you stood up gently and took a good look in the mirror.

 

It really could have been a hell of a lot worse. But your hair was mused beyond repair, you’d have to do something else with it, and your face looked pale and slightly blotchy, especially along your left cheek, where a few shallow scratches had begun to bleed.

 

With a gentle sigh you took out your bobbypins and hair clip, combed your fingers through the mess of hairspray and knots, and tried to make the change as subtle as possible. With a damp towel you blotted your face clean, making sure that the bleeding was mostly through before cleaning it with a little soap and warm water. Otherwise, there wasn’t much you could do about the red marks or your discolored skin. And there wasn’t much use in coming up with a story as you headed back to the table.

 

You sat down gracefully, taking note of the desert that’d been placed in front of your seat while you were away, and acted as though absolutely nothing had happened. Until Seto made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t just going to ignore it.

 

His hands immediately cupped your face and turned you to look at him as he spoke, his voice low and full of concern. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

 

You smiled faintly at him, then turned to Yuko, who had been sitting next to you. “Apparently you didn’t count on him caring.”

 

The woman sat perfectly still in her chair, very pointedly not looking to see if Seto had caught on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, her eyes staring at her own portion of desert.

 

As you turned back to Seto, you were pleased to note that he was seething at her from over your head, but you gently talked him down and assured that he could take care of it later.

 

Which he did, _immediately_ after dinner.

 

You didn’t know the specifics, he’d asked you to wait in the hall while he had a word with Yuko and her date. Unfortunately you never got to see either of them afterwards, but Seto looked pleased enough. In fact, as soon as you got back to the room he picked you up, pushed you against a wall, and made damn sure you knew that he was going to make you forget all about it.

 

Even if it took an extra round or two.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such a late update, I've been out of state for the past weekend and have had to focus on the ending of the semester.

You couldn’t have been happier to get the hell away from New York. It was still chilly, and the people were rude and obnoxious, even though you couldn’t understand a damn word anyone was saying. It wasn’t that it irritated you, it just chipped away at the glint of hope you kept for humanity since all you knew how to do was be polite, ‘hello’, ‘good day’, ‘goodbye’, ‘how are you?’, ‘I’m fine’, ‘please’, ‘thank you’... And no one used any of them.

 

The two of you didn’t fly out to Florida until after a particularly annoying brunch, and you’d had to work so hard to kill the bitch with kindness, you’d ended up actually needing a nap. That ended up working out for you though, Seto let you fall asleep on him during the flight, and you were sure he’d dozed off a few times himself.

 

It was well into the afternoon by the time the plane landed, and all you wanted to do was get to your hotel. Except...

 

“I thought we were going to Miami.” As you looked around, there were no signs for Miami. Only Tampa. Which could’ve been anywhere between a few minutes to a few hours from Miami. And you didn’t know because ‘Miami’ was the only one you were familiar with. So what or where the fuck was Tampa?

 

Seto only hauled you along, waiting until the two of you were inside the airport before he answered. “I have a meeting here, and a dinner a little farther south. We won’t get to Miami until later tonight.”

 

_Oh fuck this._ “Do I have to go to the meeting with you?”

 

“Well there’s really nowhere else for you to go. I didn’t get a hotel because I don’t have time to stop.” His eyes darted reflexively to the Starbucks next to the escalators, but the line was long and the space was crowded, so he bypassed it entirely.

 

It took almost half an hour for the two of you to get out of Tampa International, the place was huge and complicated and decorated with so many unnecessary metal bird sculptures and aquatic mosaic murals, and you were starting to get hungry. But you valiantly kept your mouth shut, changed into your business suit in the limo – which almost turned lewd – and waited out the meeting with a stoic face and slightly fidgety legs.

 

Again, you had no idea what they were talking about, and could only barely make out some of the text on their slideshows. However, you were able to discern the word ‘MetroCon’ from one of the slides, which portrayed quite an impressive convention turnout. So much so that there seemed to be a dueling tournament. _That would make a little more sense._

 

Generally people didn’t think that Seto Kaiba had time for little endeavors, and only focused on the big brands and household names, things that would really rake in some money. But you knew better because you knew him personally. He never overlooked the little things, and very much enjoyed helping fund smaller scale tournaments, especially when kids and teens were involved. It was one of the things you really admired about him.

 

However, you couldn’t have been happier when the meeting was over. But kept it from your voice, lest you give him a reason to say ‘I told you so’. “Where are we having dinner?”

 

“On a beach two hours from here. I suggest you get changed.”

 

Dinner on the beach sounded _glorious_ , but waiting another two hours did not. “Aren’t we surrounded by beaches?”

 

He watched with amusement as you began to pull your business clothes off, folding his arms in an attempt to keep his hands to himself. “Technically, yes. But you should know by now that businessmen only settle for the best of anything.”

 

You wrestled a little with your blouse as you tugged it over your head. “Isn’t a beach just a beach?”

 

“It is unless it’s rated number one in the country.”

 

Somehow that seemed a little strange to you, weren’t all beached the same? You pulled off your skirt and added it to the pile. They were just sand and water, and shells too sharp to walk on in your bare feet. “Where’s my bathing suit?”

 

Seto pressed his lips together and looked out the window.

 

“You fucker! Give it back,” you laughed, diving at his sides with your hands because you knew he was ticklish and was an absolute sissy about it.

 

He jumped and pressed himself against the side of the car, wrestling with your hands as he feverishly bit his lips. However, he wasn’t budging, so in an attempt to catch him off guard, you steadied your hands went in for a kiss, pawing at the hem of his pants as a distraction before forcing them behind his back, where they came up empty.

 

You pulled away and looked at him suspiciously. “Where is it,” you whined.

 

“I don’t _have_ it. It’s under your clothes, you moron.” He smiled despite his words.

 

It wasn’t very often you were able to break him away from his businesslike attitude outside the confines of your home, and even rarer still that he let it last for more than a few seconds. But the face was always for everyone else, not for you, so you spent the two hours poking fun at each other and laughing. Of course, Seto was much more reserved about it than you were, but you knew how to read under the surface.

 

The limo pulled up in front of a modest looking little beachfront restaurant, it looked pricey without sacrificing a little fun and atmosphere. Certainly not the type of place you were used to going on dinner dates, but you were totally down for some good food and a nice view.

 

You pulled a dress over your bikini before stepping out into the evening air, which was cool and humid. It felt sticky outside, and you immediately wanted to be within the building and under an AC vent. But you smiled politely through your teeth as you were introduced to the small group Seto had come to meet. They were all dressed casually, but not tastelessly so, and each of the two men had model worthy dates with perfect hourglass figures. It made you feel a little self-conscious.

 

However, when you were introduced as the girlfriend, you noted that neither of the women seemed to flinch. That didn’t make you any less suspicious of them, though.

 

The six of you were led to an inside table, set off to the side as reserved, and the hostess quickly brought each of you a glass of water. While the boys talked you looked around, enjoying the colorful and unobtrusive lighting, and listening to the chatter of the other people as they milled around the bar.

 

“So, where are you from?”

 

You looked up, staring at the girls as they smiled at you, and blushed a little. “I don’t... speak English,” you managed, albeit brokenly.

 

They nodded and looked between each other, then rephrased in perfect Japanese.

 

The surprise didn’t leave you as quickly as it had come, but you replied without sounding too excited. “Oh, uh, we came in from Domino City.” Before they had time to ask you where that was, you continued, “Where did you guys learn to speak Japanese?”

 

One of them, a blonde with gracious ringlets, smiled knowingly. “We took classes together and studied abroad for a few years. We _love_ the culture.”

 

The brunette next to her, whose smile seemed to stretch farther than ought to have, nodded excitedly. “We spent two years studying the evolving fashion industry, and it was the most amazing time we’ve ever had.”

 

You didn’t care too much for fashion or how quickly it evolved and almost never seemed practical, but at least you’d found someone else to talk to. Hopefully they wouldn’t decide to stab you in the back, but you’d gone to the bathroom beforehand, so that mistake wouldn’t be made again.

 

You turned to look as a tall redheaded girl approached the table, wearing a crop top and daisy dukes over a string bikini. Her smile was bright and her boobs were quite distracting, but the fat diamond that hung from her bellybutton nearly blinded you.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen, and ladies~” You might not have been able to understand her, but her voice was airy and melodic, reminding you somehow of an angelfish.

 

Being used to wine, you played it safe, not wanting to delve into the unknown while in the presence of esteemed company in a public setting. When the waitress came back, you noted very pointedly that the other four had decided to indulge sooner rather than later. The drinks may have been colorful and nice to look at, but you were a little interested to see just how quickly they started becoming nuisances.

 

Somehow, getting to know the two girls was easy, and they really weren’t as dumb as they looked. Of course, it wasn’t like they were much interested in what you’d studied at college, and you didn’t know a damn thing about fashion. But you still found some common ground, and you were relieved when neither had heard much of ‘the name Seto Kaiba’, so at least you could be sure they weren’t fangirls.

 

That made the night _way_ more fun for you.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a belated birthday present for cell007, whose birthday was this past Friday. I'm so sorry I didn't get it up in time, I was out of town for the entire weekend. But here it is, and I hope you had a wonderful Friday~

You didn’t argue with Seto when he ordered for you, it wasn’t like you could read the menu anyways. And you stuck to wine for the entirety of dinner, making sure to drink your water too. Desert was also passed by everyone, even after the waitress batted her massive eyelashes, and as far as you knew, Seto had made his deal and you’d get to the hotel in Miami before you knew it.

 

Except apparently, dinner wasn’t actually over.

 

“What’s going on?” you asked, tugging on Seto’s sleeve.

 

He bid the others some sort of goodbye before leading you back out to the limo. “I told them we’d finish signing the contract over cocktails.”

 

You groaned and climbed reluctantly back into the limo, bemoaning your situation.

 

“I told you we were going to the beach, didn’t you pay attention?”

 

Whatever, it didn’t matter now anyways. You were just irritated at having to be out any later, you were starting to get tired, and really didn’t want to listen anymore senseless conversations that you couldn’t understand. After an hour of brooding you very firmly decided that you were going to get shit-faced drunk and there wasn’t a _damn_ thing he could do about it.

 

However, having to ask him to constantly read you the drink menu might end up being a little awkward, but you’d find a way to manage. Maybe one of the girls could translate for you so you wouldn’t even have to bother him about it.

 

The beach you’d pulled up to was fairly alive even though the sun had set, and the cool night air was welcomed against your skin. You had forgone the dress for a sheer slip, since you had been bothered to wear a bikini you were going to show it off, by God. Even if you didn’t have a beach body worth competing with.

 

The six of you met up again at the end of a winding boardwalk, next to a sign posted in the sand painted with the words ‘Siesta Beach’. You were of the opinion that all beaches were the same, that sand was sand and there wasn’t anything to differentiate one beach from another. That is, until you walked on _this_ sand.

 

Of course, the word sand was far too coarse of a term, it was more like powder, soft and cool between your toes. _Okay, this beach is pretty nice._ You could barely be bothered to pick up your feet as you walked, following the others to a high top table underneath the restaurant canopy.

 

Before even a minute had gone by, a waitress – in a bikini without any sort of cover-up – had made her way to your table, and one of the businessmen had sent her off. Then the conversations began and you waited patiently for your drink, delighted with the sight of the trey full of margaritas.

 

You downed the first in a few minutes, it’d tasted pretty damn good, and was easily able to chat with the women, girlishly pointing out hot shirtless guys that were meandering around the seating section. Before you knew it, there was another margarita sitting in the place of the empty one.

 

It hadn’t been on purpose, you were fine with blaming the alcohol, but you didn’t end up paying Seto much mind, and he was transfixed with his business deal, so you didn’t really care. After the second margarita, and a shot of fireball, you seemed to have a much easier time talking with the girls. They might have sounded a little ditsy, and you didn’t have a whole heck of a lot in common with them, but the conversation never really died down, and you laughed just as well.

 

Somewhere along the line you’d removed your slip, but flaunted what squish you had with pride, unafraid of any sneers or comments that you may or may not have received by passing women. You also downed another shot, this time a pleasantly sweet flavor of vodka.

 

Seto never cut you off, but didn’t seem ignorant to you either, even though he refrained from saying anything to you about it, or in general. In fact, he didn’t speak a word to you until you noticed – and proceeded to comment on – the fact that he was shirtless.

 

Now, you’d seen him butt ass naked plenty of times, knew what everything looked like, and had ceased to come across much of anything new. _However_ , he did not ever, even for a second, stop being the most fucking attractive human being on the face of the earth and _dear God forgive me for I wish to sin._

 

You remained painfully aroused for the remainder of the night, which you topped off with a long island iced tea. In retrospect that was probably the worst decision you’d made all night, but in the moment, you refused to give a shit, and drank it with purpose. Because you didn’t know how, or when, but you were going to get your boyfriend naked and horny before you fell asleep. You swore it to yourself.

 

Which you’d ended up succeeding with.

 

\--

 

Your eyes opened slowly, tiredly, and the moment you made to move anything an aching soreness resonated through your very being. Painfully, you sat yourself up, nudged the sweaty covers from your body, and immediately noticed how naked you were. At first, you smiled, knowing that you’d fulfilled your wish the night before. But as your eyes trailed over your skin and noticed the blemishes, you became confused.

 

Then you realized, you had absolutely no memory of what had happened the night before.

 

It was obvious, though, that you were not hungover, Seto must have forced you to drink enough water before you fell asleep to keep you in the clear and out of the bathroom. But now you were curious, and carefully made your way over to the floor mirror beside the closet door where you began to inspect yourself.

 

Aside from the handful of hickeys that fanned across all parts of your skin, there were a few concentrated in the crease of your thighs and directly on and around both of your nipples. There were a few fingertip bruises on the insides of your thighs and around your hips, but your eyes didn’t widen until you turned around. Long, red, gentle scratch marks lined your back, all eight starting from your shoulders and ending around the small of your back. Both of your butt cheeks were red, and one boasted a well faded handprint.

 

As Seto approached you from behind, clad in only the white towel that hung on his hips, you pursed your lips and whined. “I don’t remember any of this.”

 

He scoffed, placing his hands over the edge of the towel. “Really? Nothing?”

 

“No, what happened?”

 

“Well,” he began, moving his hands to slide under your arms and rest at your sides. “You begged me for an hour to get in bed with you, then whined when I was being too gentle.”

 

You blinked, looking up at him rather than his reflection. “I didn’t say anything weird, did I?”

 

He grimaced a little, but playfully. “Let’s just say that you’re _really_ kinky when you’re drunk.”

 

As he walked into the closet to get dressed you frowned after him. “That’s not very reassuring.”

 

After pulling on a pair of slacks he turned and addressed you. “I didn’t stop, did I?”

 

You hummed and let him finish dressing himself, sitting on the bed and trying to will away the aches and pains. He closed the door and walked over to you, brushing your nose with his.

 

“I have a short meeting, it won’t take long. Go soak in some hot water, and when I get back we’ll figure out what to do for lunch.” He kissed you gently before leaving the room, where you looked after the door for another few seconds after he’d left.

 

A hot bath sounded like an excellent idea, and you didn’t even start thinking about getting out until you were well past pruned. You might not have been hungover, but you still didn’t feel the best either, your head was throbbing a little and your stomach rolled over at the mere thought of ‘lunch’. You really hoped that he wouldn’t want to go out anywhere, you very well might end up embarrassing him for hissing at the sun and trying hide under his coat tails.

 

But you could figure that out later, and rummaged through the sparse closet for something to put on. A bra was out of the question, if you didn’t have to he couldn’t make you, but your body felt warm, so pants were also a no go. However, you’d only gotten as far as your underwear before realizing that he didn’t have anything clean but suits and you weren’t about to parade around in your pajamas. Not when he had a dress shirt lying around that he’d labeled “dirty” because he only wore it once.

 

It was a bad habit of his, his laundry got taken down at least twice as often as yours because he always refused to wear anything twice.

 

Oh well, if he wasn’t going to make use of it, you were. And it was even one of the soft ones to boot, so you could sprawl on the couch comfortably as you watched TV and waited.

 

A particularly intense episode of “Bad Girls Club” was on, and even though you thought they were all trashy and dressed like skanks, it was still fun to watch them beat each other and pull out each other’s fake extensions.

 

“ _Bitch! I told your stank ass not to touch my weave!_ ”

 

“ _The only reason you need a weave is because your hair is so ratchet you can’t even curl it without it fallin’ out!_ ”

 

“ _Bitch! Say it again! I’ll beat your ass!_ ”

 

“What the hell are you watching?”

 

You looked up from your twisted angle on the sofa and smiled at him. “Melissa is about to get sent home because she’s a tramp and nobody likes her.”

 

He scrunched his face a little and looked at the TV, then rolled his eyes and went back into the bedroom. When he joined you on the couch he’d changed into something comfortable that actually wasn’t slacks for once.

 

As he got comfortable you laid your head in his lap and let him have control over the remote, he wasn’t much interested in watching Melissa’s walk of shame out of the mansion. “So, am I still going home tonight?”

 

Seto looked down, his face neutral. “That’s what original plan was, yes.”

 

You figured. “Well, if you don’t care, I’d rather stay in for lunch.”

 

He nodded once, then looked back up. “I thought so.”

 

The two of you decided on takeout, which you told yourself not to be disappointed in when it turned out to be subpar from what you were used to. Although, the fried rice was actually pretty good, and by the end of the movie you’d put on, you were full.

 

Seto turned his attention between you and his work, finalizing presentations and sending e-mails, and then taking breaks to spend time with you. It was a nice little exchange, but it made the day pass by far quicker than you’d wanted, and before you knew it, you were standing back out on the tarmac waiting for the jet.

 

Your fingers laced between his and you stood timidly next to him, your gut wrenching in and over itself as you watched the plane exit the hanger. There was still trace amounts of fear laced in your veins, but you were sure that you were only being paranoid. You just really didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want him to be so far away...

 

“Sir, the plane’s ready.” The driver waved from his side of the limo.

 

Maybe your hand clenched a little tighter than you’d wanted, but despite the whirring of the engines, you still heard his voice.

 

“You worry too much.”

 

That was probably true, but it didn’t make the walk to the plane any easier, and after staring at it for a solid ten seconds Seto had to pick you up and set you on the second step. It was for the best, you were keeping him waiting, and he was busy. So you turned valiantly and tried to smile. Although, by his reaction you guessed it didn’t come off right.

 

“Look, by the time you get there it’ll already be tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be home Saturday night _your_ time, okay?”

 

You nodded, he always knew what to say, and suddenly it didn’t seem quite so bad.

 

He let you hold onto him for an extra little bit before pulling away to kiss you goodbye. “Text me when you’re home.”

 

The blood warmed in your cheeks as you watched him walk off, and the butterflies in your stomach didn’t die down until quite a while after you’d taken off.

 

Sure, sometimes he was an aggravating human being, and sometimes he was really difficult to get along with. But somehow he still managed to turn you into a giggly little girl, which probably helped you sleep through most of the flight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter before things start really going south~


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for things to get very bad very quickly.

Mokuba and Téa met you on the tarmac, waving from what you could assume to be the girl’s red coupe. You were glad they’d come, and it helped to ease the nerves that had built up on the ride there, which you were glad hadn’t tormented your sleep.

 

They smiled to greet you, and Mokuba pulled you into a warm hug, nearly picking your feet up off the ground. Téa gave you a polite ‘hello’, and engaged you in conversation about your visit as you shoved Mokuba into the back of her car to take the front seat. You ended up spending the most time talking about New York – where she very animatedly squealed about wanting to study dance there as soon as she saved enough money.

 

The sun had long since gone down when Téa’s car pulled up to the front gates of the mansion, and she rolled her window down to address the guard. He leaned out of the ornate iron door and peered at her tiredly.

 

“I’m sorry ma’am, Master Kaiba is out.”

 

Téa looked at you and leaned back, allowing you to throw him a pleasant smile.

 

“No worries, she’s just dropping me off at home!”

 

He looked between you and Mokuba, who was waving frantically from the back seat, before buzzing the gates open. They swung out and away from you, and Téa carefully pulled forward and through, circling around the fountain by the front door and stopping, her eyes searching curiously. “I’ve never gotten this close before...”

 

You slid out of her car and held the seat forward for Mokuba, closing the door after he’d stumbled out awkwardly. After maybe half a second’s worth of consideration, you walked over to Téa’s side of the car, your hands twisting over themselves. “Hey, you know, if you want, you’re more than welcome to come inside. I was gonna have dinner made.”

 

Téa blushed slightly. “Oh, um, I really don’t want to impose –“

 

“No no no,” you held your hands up. “You’re absolutely welcome, the house is pretty empty right now anyways and I know how much Ms. Ihara likes to cook for guests.”

 

She caved fairly quickly, and allowed you to have the valet park her car by the garage, then followed you through the front doors as Mokuba held it open impatiently. You heard her inhale sharply from behind you, and when you turned she seemed to be stunned in place.

 

You blushed slightly. “Yeah, it looks really overbearing the first time. It took me almost a whole week to get over it.”

 

With a nod she continued to follow close behind. “I hope this isn’t offensive, but I guess I’m just curious as to how the two of you... I don’t know, get along? He’s a little different from the last time I saw him.”

 

When the three of you reached the kitchen, and gave Ms. Ihara a heads up for dinner, you sat down at the bar with them and pondered over how to answer her question. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mokuba watching you. “Well, I won’t tell you it’s easy, because it isn’t...” It took you a moment to decide on what to tell her without getting too personal. “But I think it’s fair to say that he gives respect when he receives it. Of course that’s situational, but he really tries to make sure he stays hard headed, so if you can learn not to take everything so personally it _really_ helps.”

 

Téa hummed in thought, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Would it be weird to ask how you two met?”

 

Mokuba sniggered to himself quietly, and you couldn’t help the smirk. “Initially it was a train wreck, and more than embarrassing, but at some point he just started coming into my dinky little café on a regular basis and our hatred just sort of went from there~”

 

She laughed and grimaced good-naturedly.

 

“It really wasn’t that bad though,” you continued. “I mean, it was weird because I worked for him for a handful of months as his personal assistant, and I guess the only reason I’m here is because I challenged him and then got evicted from my apartment.”

 

Téa’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t make to comment, instead smiling over your shoulder as Ms. Ihara brought the two of you each a glass of red wine. She took it with grace, but you noticed her hesitation to drink with you when you took your initial sip.

 

Making small talk wasn’t quite as awkward as you thought it was going to be, but you were sure that Mokuba had something to do with that, he got along so well with Téa. Mostly you just listened to them talk, only offering commentary when it was relevant and necessary. Otherwise you let your mind wander to other things, like what Seto might have been doing while you waited for dinner.

 

Or maybe after dinner was over, and the three of you were watching a movie. Perhaps, even as you were waving goodbye to Téa as you stood in the doorframe. But definitely as you and Mokuba shared a large mug of hot chocolate before bed.

 

You weren’t entirely sure what had tipped you off, or why the sudden feeling invaded your evening. But something was _wrong_. A sickening churn assaulted your stomach, and you immediately removed yourself from the couch and stepped into the other room, your fingers already dialing his number.

 

“ _I’m in a meeting –_ “

 

“Are you okay?” Your voice sounded rushed and frantic, and that was probably the only reason he entertained you.

 

“ _What are talking about? Everything’s fine._ ”

 

That almost made you feel better. But it didn’t. “Oh...” you hesitated, biting your lip and feeling guilty that you’d interrupted him for nothing. “Never mind, just be safe, okay?”

 

He paused for moment, you couldn’t even hear him breathing despite how eerily quiet it was.

 

“ _Okay._ ”

 

The moment you hung up the feeling bit at you again, and you hurried back to the living room to Mokuba.

 

Except, you never made it.

 

* * *

 

Your eyes opened slowly, tiredly, and immediately saw a blurring of lights that made your head spin and your stomach heave. The first thing you noticed was that you were moving, you were in a car, it was dark, and you ached all over. When you looked back at the lights you could make out that it was Domino City passing by, Kaiba Corp. illuminated like always.

 

It was a slow process, but your thoughts trailed from Kaiba Corp. to your boyfriend, who was overseas, then to the phone call you’d had with him... however long ago, and then you’d turned to go back to the living room to –

 

_Mokuba_.

 

The inside of the car was too dark for you to make out anyone, and as soon as your head moved to look for the younger brother there was something over your mouth and nose and... and it got dark again.

 

* * *

 

It might have been the pressure against your stomach that woke you up, a painful steady jabbing that wasn’t being made any better by the fact that your head was spinning with a head rush. Also your left hand was asleep in the most painful way, and your neck was stiff and sore from your head being turned to the left for so long.

 

Your eyes didn’t open for a while, mostly because you wanted to logically process what was going on before you assaulted your brain with whatever you might have seen. Initially you figured out you were being carried over someone’s shoulder, didn’t recognize a single quiet voice you could hear, and the smell of salt water harshly invaded your nose.

 

Then the fear rushed in, and it took all of your strength to not start immediately struggling. As much as you wanted to fight back, you knew that there were smarter ways to act on the situation. So you opened your eyes.

 

The floor was concrete, splashed with large shallow puddles of water and grease. What you could see of the walls were metal slat sheets, bolted together with industrial rivets big enough to see from halfway across the warehouse. You didn’t dare move your head or do anything to indicate that you were awake, but you didn’t see much machinery, and what you could make out didn’t offer anything in the way of your location.

 

You also couldn’t see anyone else in your line of vision, but you could hear them, chattering softly about ‘the boss’. That immediately put you even more on edge, and as the man carrying you began to descend down a flight of stairs, your stomach churned with every step downwards he took. By the time he stopped you were thankful you hadn’t gotten sick.

 

That was when you thought about Mokuba, and where the hell _he_ was, because if he wasn’t with you, there was no way you were going to make it through this. And not in the ‘I need someone with me to keep me sane’ way, it was more of a ‘I’ll let myself die just on the hope that they’ll keep their promise and let him go’. Of course, you hoped that if he wasn’t with you, it was because he somehow go away already.

 

“Boss?” The man’s voice sounded highly uneducated, thick and slurred almost to the point of being stereotypical, but there was a slight edge of authority, which seemed entirely out of place.

 

There was a hum from a few feet away, thoughtful, and you waited patiently for the voice to speak, hoping to _God_ that it wasn’t who you thought it’d be.

 

“They’ll be fine together, I’ll deal with them in the morning.”

 

It was definitely Rex Raptor, you had definitely been kidnapped, and Seto was _definitely_ going to kick his ass for it. The question was, how long was it going to take, and what will Rex have gotten away with by then? That’s what you were really worried about, because something told you that he didn’t really care what happened to Mokuba, but he absolutely cared about what he’d get to do to you.

 

For a second or two you thought you were going to throw up again, and the fear had doubled by the time your carrier had descended a second flight of stairs and lumbered down a long hall to stop in front of a steel door. You relaxed as best you could, but grunted when he simply tossed you onto the floor, and by then it was pointless to pretend to be knocked out.

 

“Well, look who finally woke up.” He was tall and broad, and not someone you would want to even meet in public, let alone a dark ally. The guy with him, carrying Mokuba, was far thinner, built like a runner but with a little more bulk.

 

Once they dropped Mokuba next to you and closed to door, you immediately went about trying to wake him up, gently shaking his shoulders and patting his cheeks until his eyes fluttered open tiredly.

 

He sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes. “Is it time to go to bed? I don’t remember falling asleep...”

 

You just honestly didn’t know how to break it to him, and simply let him look around for himself.

 

There were crates stacked against the walls, none of them too terribly big, and none of them labeled or stickered. Aside from that, and the four tiny windows set high on the wall, the room was barren, cold, and smelled like wet salt.

 

Mokuba stiffened for a short moment, his eyes darting around as he took everything in. Then, as he brought his fists up and tensed his shoulders he howled, “Son of a _bitch_!”

 

It startled you worse than anything, and you jerked away from him out of reflex, still shaking from the realization of what was going on. “Mokuba...”

 

He growled and pulled at his hair, burying his head between his knees. “This is going to take for _fucking_ ever!”

 

You just continued to sit and tremble, confused as to why he seemed more angry than afraid, as you yourself dealt only with fear. As much as you wanted to tell yourself that everything was going to be fine, and that Seto would be along before you knew it, there just wasn’t any way for you to ignore how genuinely afraid you were.

 

There was no way for you to know how long you’d be there, trapped, with or without Mokuba at any given time. There was no way for you to know what Rex would make you do, or do _to_ you, which was far more horrifying.

 

And as much as you wanted to be strong, more for Mokuba than for yourself, you realized, in that small moment, that you simply weren’t. Could you really bring yourself to lie to him, to tell him that nothing would happen before his brother got there? No. Of course you couldn’t.

 

“Who was it.”

 

You looked up, internally shrinking at the intensity of Mokuba’s stare. “Rex.”

 

He narrowed his eyes and frowned, the look of repulsion clear on his face. Then his eyes slid over to the metal door and he said softly, “Nii-sama won’t be very happy.”


	29. Chapter 29

Seto grew increasingly impatient with the slew of elderly men sitting around him at the table, going back and forth about something that he very pointedly was _not_ going to participate in. The head of the table, the man who had invited him to talk numbers in the first place, held his hands up in an effort to quiet the other bickering men.

 

“Gentleman, please,” he ordered, his Yankee accent grating on Seto’s nerves horridly. “Mr. Kaiba, I would like to hear from you.”

 

With a sigh he addressed the man asking for his opinion, which he gave. “Personally, I think you’re all a bunch of idiots. But maybe that’s because I’m from Japan and we’ve already got a notorious track record for outclassing America in just about everything.” He took in the stunned silence, then continued. “Next time, don’t call me unless –“

 

Generally, Seto Kaiba limited any possibility for interruptions, especially during meetings when the business was at least supposedly important. The only reason he left his phone on was because you had sounded so worried earlier that morning. So when Roland’s name came up on the caller ID, he figured something had happened and his attention was needed – and would be of more use – elsewhere.

 

Rather than excusing himself he simply rose and detached himself from the meeting, finding a corner by the door where it would be quiet enough to hear. “Roland, I’m in a –“

 

“ _Sir we’ve got a code yellow, the house never went on lockdown!_ ”

 

There was a still second of absolutely nothing while the words processed, before Seto ground his teeth and released all of the air in his lungs with one screeching howl.

 

“ ** _WHAT!?_** ”

 

He fumed, his face reddening as the blood in his veins boiled at even the slightest of implications of Roland’s statement. Code yellow was originally code for ‘Mokuba has been kidnapped, look for his obnoxious yellow jacket’, but has since been modified to include most members of immediate importance. And because the house’s security system never fully activated, he assumed code yellow included you as well.

 

The call was short and over before the end of nine seconds, at which point Seto was turning on the horrified looks of ignorant businessmen. His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to say something, but he simply didn’t have time, and stormed out of the room, threatening his pilot with hideous consequence if the jet wasn’t ready by the time he got there.

 

* * *

 

You and Mokuba had long since huddled up against the crates in the corner, wrapped in each other’s arms as the cold night settled in. There was no sleeping, no drifting, even a little, and the talk had been kept to a minimum. There simply wasn’t anything to say.

 

Admittedly, he was holding you and being the adult more than you were, but after the first two hours of beating yourself up over it, you succumbed and confessed to how scared you were of the situation. And he’d told you that you had every right to be. Rex wanted you, not him.

 

So you sat quietly and waited. And waited. You waited for the door to open, for Rex to come in and start making your life hell, which your brain entertained you with. You figured it was safe to assume that whatever he wanted was based on a sexual nature, considering the harassment he’d subjected you to before. That disgusted you more than scared you, but the fear was still there.

 

And remained as the sun began to pour into the stale room that hadn’t offered any sleep. At some point the two of you got up to walk around, feeling stiff and shaky from sitting on the concrete all night. After your fourth time pacing past the door, you stopped and stared at the floor.

 

“Do you think he knows yet?”

 

Mokuba scoffed, climbing onto the smallest box he could find. “He’s probably already back in Japan by now, if not close. The question is how long it’ll take for them to find us.”

 

That much was already obvious to you. “I know that, but how is he gonna do that? It’s not like we’ve been neutered at the vet and chipped.” Part of you wanted to curse yourself for being funny in such a situation, the rest of you thought it was hysterical. You didn’t laugh.

 

“Well... technically I have a chip. I just don’t think it works anymore.”

 

You whirled on him, your eyes wild with what could have been. “Are you _sure_ it doesn’t still work?”

 

He shrugged, scowling at the next highest box. “I guess we can ask when he gets here.”

 

For some reason you were suddenly all different kinds of pissed off. “Mokuba can you please take this seriously!”

 

Mokuba turned around to face you. “I _am_. Just because I’m not freaking out doesn’t mean I’m entirely calm. Carrying on about it isn’t going to get either of us anywhere, and I _promise_ that I speak from experience.”

 

Something else snapped. “Do _not_ say the word promise to me!”

 

He looked taken aback, but not offended. However, he didn’t move to console you or move from his climbing space on the pile of crates. Instead, he let you pour your heart out.

 

“Every time you make a promise it never means anything!” You didn’t want to yell, and you shouldn’t. “It never mattered what they were for because you couldn’t keep any of them!” You knew you should’ve stopped. “I don’t even think you’re trying anymore and all I do is wait for something to happen!” This anger wasn’t meant for Mokuba anyway. “We were supposed to talk a long time ago and you never said anything! You just ignored me!” It was meant for Seto. “You promised you’d always be there when I needed you and now I don’t know if I can trust you!”

 

There it was. All laid out on the table. How you really felt. And it had fallen on unintended ears.

 

By the time you were done your hands had balled into fists while tears carelessly fell down your cheeks, staining the concrete just a shade darker. You stood silent for a moment, detached from your feelings as you’d just given them up to be displayed. Then, after a tired moment, you heard the creaking of wood as Mokuba slid off the crates and walked over to you.

 

As his hands rested on your shoulders you stared at the fabric of his shirt. “We never told you what happened, that Rex came into the shop with his men. I pushed the panic button but I was so afraid he’d ignore it. After he came, and shot him... he told me he’d always be there for me when I needed him. And I believed it... but I don’t know if I should have.”

 

Mokuba rubbed your shoulders quietly, thinking before he spoke. “I’d tell you that his promise to keep you safe is valid, but I know that’s not the only thing you need him for.” You’d known for a long time that just because Mokuba didn’t speak on the situation, didn’t mean he was ignorant of it. He was far more observing than you ever gave him credit for, which was probably why he always knew what to say.

 

You had absolutely no doubt in your mind that Seto Kaiba was going to beat down the door with his own army blazing their guns and kicking the ass of any sorry soul unfortunate enough to be standing in the way when they did. That was one of those absolute truths you could count on without there ever being any exceptions. That’s just how Seto Kaiba did things.

 

It was what was going to happen afterwards that concerned you. Somehow, you’d gotten it in your head that you truly were more of a burden to him than anything else, you simply couldn’t take care of yourself enough to keep him from needing to step in and do it for you. So how was he going to react knowing that he’d had to cut his meeting short overseas because you couldn’t defend yourself against a hot shot wannabe?

 

To be fair, that was a little too harsh, there really wasn’t anything you could’ve done, but it still made you feel useless. Even as you went over the date he’d taken you on before the business trip, what he’d said to you in the little Victorian café, somehow it didn’t matter.

 

After all of the times you made him smile, the times he thanked you for bringing him coffee, the way he always tried to return the affection when you snuggled up to him, the sincerity in his voice when he told you how beautiful he thought you were, and the way he looked at you every time he coaxed you into bed with him. Now, all of the sudden, none of it mattered, and that hurt you worse than anything. Because you didn’t know why.

 

What more could you possibly ask of him? How much farther were you going to push him out of his comfort zone just to cater to your feelings? At what cost were you going to allow yourself to succumb to your selfishness?

 

He deserved better, and you were easily and willingly able to convince yourself of that.

 

* * *

 

Hunger set in before late afternoon, and you and Mokuba had made a silent pact not to expect anything to eat. But that didn’t stop either of you from slightly salivating with hope as the door finally swung open.

 

The only two men you’d seen lumbered in, their hands empty of food. Each boasted a gun in a holster on their hip, and some intimidating semi-automatic number slung across their back. They addressed each of you with the same bored stare. Only the big one spoke.

 

“The Boss wants you upstairs. Get a move on and we won’t have to make this difficult.”

 

Mokuba laced his fingers with your own and squoze tight, helping you to your feet and through the door.

 

The hallway wasn’t as long as you remembered, and there were only two other doors on your right before it ended, a wide metal staircase on the left connecting the lower storage level with the more open area above it. Said area was where you were halted, and you took a good look around.

 

It wasn’t very large in comparison to the overall size of the warehouse, but it was big enough to hold a hand rigged computer setup, a large TV, a handful of coolers open and displaying cold beer, two very retro hand-me-down couches, and a stack of open crates next to a table littered with guns of various calibers.

 

 _He’s a fucking gun dealer._ It was the only coherent thought, other than _his sense for interior decorating is absolute shit_ , that you could manage before he addressed you by name.

 

“You know, I’m awful hurt that you never sent me flowers while I was recovering.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, which matched his body language almost too well. He lounged as comfortably as any hormonal individual could, legs splayed invitingly with both arms resting on the back of the couch, a beer bottle in one hand and with a sly grin plastered all too obviously on his face.

 

You shuttered, _visibly_ , and set your jaw as Mokuba inched just a hair in front of you. “If you’re really so butt-hurt about it you can whine to Kaiba when he comes over to beat your ass into the concrete.” Your attitude was reflexive, much the same way as using his last name in serious situations was. Vaguely, you wondered if he’d ever noticed.

 

Rex frowned, set the bottle on the ground, and rose from his seat, taking careful steps towards you. “I hope you know that the bitchier you act, the more fun I’m going to have.” He reached for you, his left hand fisting itself in the hair on the back of your neck, catching the shortest ones and making you flinch. Mokuba growled at him.

 

“I’ll tell nii-sama everything, he’ll kill you for it.”

 

Had Mokuba’s anger been directed at you, you honestly would’ve felt quite intimidated, but Rex didn’t seem to share your feelings on the matter.

 

“Cuff him and sit him over there, right where he can watch.” Rex grinned, watching as the man jostled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and lead the boy over to a chair, forcing him to face in your direction.

 

Truthfully, you felt ten times more helpless without Mokuba standing with you, but there was comfort in the way he glowered hatefully at Rex from behind his wild mess of hair.

 

Your kidnapper led you over to the couch and sat you down without an inch between the two of you, his unoccupied arm draped around your shoulders. It was the most uncomfortable he’d made you feel – so far – and you wondered just how far he was planning on taking that discomfort. Currently, the worst of it was feeling his fowl breath against the side of your face.

 

“Does Kaiba ever spend much time with you? I can’t imagine he’s very date worthy.”

 

You elbowed him as harshly as you could in the ribs, and he replied with giving your right ear a generous pull. It hurt, enough for you to hiss through your teeth and sit quietly afterwards, but you surely weren’t going to give up your fight so easily.

 

Thankfully, for the next two hours all you had to do was sit and be nice, occasionally being forced to comment on the shitty choice of programming. You were slightly appalled by how engrossed the rest of the gang members were, and vaguely wondered how they managed to coordinate the complex teamwork skills it surely had taken to kidnap the two of you. None of them looked even the least bit intelligent.

 

With the last bout of ending credits, Rex sat up and looked behind him. “Hey runt,” you supposed that was because the man he was addressing was the smallest you’ve seen, “go make dinner, will ya? Somethin’ nice.”

 

You inwardly cursed your audible stomach for being a traitor, even though you could hear Mokuba’s just as clearly from ten feet away. But his face was still strained into a definite scowl, and he followed Rex with his eyes as intently as a predator stalking its prey.

 

Which didn’t suit Mokuba in the slightest, even after living with the both of them and finding little telltale signs that confirmed their being related, he was nothing like his older brother, and the creasing scowl didn’t sit well on his face, convincing as it was. However, despite the displacement, knowing he was willing to outwardly express his anger made you feel just a little safer.

 

Twenty minutes passed in mostly awkward silence, save for the few times that Rex attempted to make small talk that you simply were not going to accept or entertain. He gave up early on, but not without letting you know he wasn’t going to let it slide. Your gut churned helplessly, and you were sure he would show his irritation later, but the fact that you simply didn’t know how and couldn’t prepare for it was what made you sick.

 

The man dubbed ‘Runt’ returned from a side room just as Rex opened his mouth to speak, cutting him off as he presented what he dubbed as “dinner”. Truthfully, you thought that if your stomach twisted any farther on itself it’d surely pull itself apart. At the moment, that sounded like much more of a pleasant scenario than eating whatever was arranged on the plate.

 

You’d seen pictures before, and every single one had been enough to make you throw up in your mouth a little. Seeing the dish in person threatened to make your stomach unravel itself in the most unpleasant way. Because it doesn’t matter how delectable a soup is, as soon as there’s a fish head planted in the middle, the color of the eye making you wonder how long it had been dead, there was absolutely no way for its edibility to be redeemed.

 

At first you didn’t feel that it even deserved a polite refusal, simply due to the fact that it could very well give you food poisoning or worse. However, the fear that Rex would already be offended by your refusal crossed your mind in time for you to tone down the disgust evident in your voice. “No thanks, I –“

 

“Oh that’s too bad,” he interjected, his tone flat while his eyes bore holes into your own. “But you could stand to lose some weight anyway.”

 

Chills crawled down the lengths of your arms, and his cruelty began to show its perspective.


	30. Chapter 30

You didn’t eat that night, couldn’t stomach the sight of it let alone the taste. But watching him eat was almost just as bad, and you looked away every chance you were given, one arm pressed firmly around your midsection.

 

Mokuba wasn’t offered anything to eat, but you were sure he would’ve turned it down either way, he wouldn’t have eaten without you. Instead, he just continued to stare at Rex, possibly in the hopes of making him uncomfortable. You weren’t sure if it worked, Rex ate until the bowl was empty, but he did meet Mokuba’s eyes once or twice.

 

When Rex was finished he rose from the couch and ordered a few men to stand guard, and you watched him leave the room. Once he was no longer in your line of sight you turned to the other, whose scowl hadn’t left. You opened your mouth to say _something_ , but the looks from the uniformed men told you that anything you had to say probably wouldn’t go without consequence. You kept quiet.

 

It was a very uncomfortable twenty-six minutes of silence before Rex returned, clad in nothing but a slightly oversized pair of lounge pants, and the only reason you knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath was because his thumbs were resting against the waistband at his hips. If they were pulled down any farther you’d have gotten an eyeful of the last thing you wanted to see. He snerked when you turned your head away from him, his laughter rumbling low in his chest and making you uneasy.

 

Your teeth ground together as your head stared off to the side at the floor. You could hear his bare feet on the concrete as he walked over to you, stopping only within a few inches of where you were sitting. His hand rested on top of your head, his fingers tracing circles in your hair.

 

“You don’t need to be so terrified of me, I’m really not that bad~”

 

Mokuba jerked against his handcuffs. “If you don’t stop touching her –!”

 

“What the fuck are you gonna do?” Rex turned to face Mokuba, removing his hand from you hair. “Besides nothing? You can’t touch me.”

 

For just a moment, you looked up.

 

Mokuba snorted a light laugh, his face lax and neutral. “I can’t, but nii-sama can.”

 

“The bastard has to find me first, or did you forget?”

 

There were many things you were willing to tolerate, especially for Mokuba’s sake. But listening to other people talk down to him was not one of them. “Did you forget who you were dealing with?”

 

The fact that he didn’t hesitate was just as surprising as it was expected, but you still flinched when he brought the backside of his hand across the left side of your face, the loud clap echoing off the metal walls. Then a hand tightened a fist around the short hairs on the back of your neck and forced you to look up.

 

“Seto Kaiba doesn’t scare me, so stop acting like he should.” The glare he gave you was weak, but it shut you up, and he answered your hissing wince with a smile. “I wonder how much fun I can have with you until he gets here –“

 

“If you touch my mother I swear to _God_ you’ll be dead!”

 

You didn’t look at Mokuba, you didn’t need to in order to see the snarl on his lips or the hate in his eyes, you could hear it. “Mokuba, please...” you whispered, scared for him far more than you were for yourself. There were many things you were willing to tolerate...

 

* * *

 

Rex had Mokuba locked in a spare room, and for a moment you just listened to him scream and curse and swear the other’s death. You didn’t cry, you’d couldn’t do that him. If anything, you had to be strong for the both of you, at least until Seto got there. And there was no telling how long he would be.

 

You prepared for the worst as best you could, swallowed your pride, set aside any emotional attachment, and just let your body shake in the cold. The edge of the bed dipped under your weight, nearly threatening to send you over the edge. Rex’s stare from the other end could’ve made you welcome the fall.

 

“I just want to know why.”

 

“I don’t have to answer to you.”

 

He groaned and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and twisted, exhaling loudly. “What do you see in that asshole? I mean, do you even know him?”

 

That was easy. “I obviously know him better than you.”

 

Rex knitted his eyebrows together. “Are you sure? You have no idea what kind of a person he used to be, what he did to people. What his father did.”

 

“That doesn’t matter.”

 

“The hell is does!”

 

You shook quietly. “His father has nothing to do with who he is.”

 

“Has he ever told you about the things his father did? How many children he slaughtered?”

 

“Shut up!” You couldn’t call him a liar, that’d make you a hypocrite. But you didn’t want to hear it. You already knew. That wasn’t Seto. He wasn’t his father.

 

Rex scoffed. “Oh what, did I hit a nerve? You think he’s a fucking saint, don’t you? You are so _fucking_ stupid.”

 

You didn’t answer him.

 

“After his father laid waste to entire towns and cities, your knight in shining armor put thousands of people out of jobs while he was still a damn kid! He’s a fuckin’ son of a bitch and all I want to know is why you hang around his overprivileged ass.” Rex stared you down, his arms resting against his knees as he sat cross legged in front of you.

 

At first you thought about telling him off, angry that had the gall to talk about Seto like he was some kind of monster. Because he wasn’t, and he never was, and –

 

And you were lying to yourself.

 

Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp. and single parent before graduation, was, in fact, a monster. It was true, and you couldn’t deny it. He’d done awful things, treated people terribly, and saw you as nothing more than a dumb college girl fruitlessly trying to make ends meet. And somehow, somewhere along the way, it all changed.

 

You became the object of his obsession – surely a step under the dragons – and he started treating you differently. Like you were a person and not someone only smart enough to swipe his card for his shitty coffee. He saw something in that tiny, lonely, little girl that you used to be, the one who put on a front for protection to keep everyone else away. That’s not what he saw when he looked at you and you still didn’t know why he showed you even the slightest bit of kindness.

 

He’d changed since you’d met him, he was happier more often, didn’t seem to hate himself as much, didn’t force everyone away in an attempt to cope with the bullshit he dealt with every single day. You knew a different Seto Kaiba than the rest of the world, but that didn’t explain very much.

 

The things he’d done to you, _said_ to you, the way he fought with you and screamed and told you exactly what he thought he wanted to say. The lies he’s told. The pain he’s wrought. All the nights you spent crying because you just didn’t understand what to do or how to get out of it. How small and helpless you felt around him. How hard he’d fought to protect you. And none of it made a damn bit of sense.

 

The two of you never did have that talk...

 

“I... I don’t... know...” You shouldn’t have, but you needed to be selfish. You needed to look out for you and do what would keep _you_ safe. And you cried. Curled up in a little fragile ball and screamed the pain away in utter silence.

 

Rex stared in exasperation, waiting for you to be finished with your episode. As your crying softened and you went back to scowling into your hands, he spoke again. “Do you even know how he feels about you?”

 

 _Why is he doing this... What does he want from me?_ “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

 

“He’s never once said it, has he?”

 

You knew what that meant. “It’s none of your business.”

 

“I didn’t think so –“

 

“What the fuck does it matter to you anyways!” Your throat burned.

 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “How much longer are you going to play his little fuck toy? You know that’s what he’s doing, right? He’s _fucking_ with you, that’s all he ever does to people!”

 

No. “You’re wrong.”

 

“Oh prove it. Because I know you can’t.” His were narrowed. He was getting bored. “But it doesn’t matter, you won’t have to deal with him and his lousy bullshit anymore.”

 

You glowered. “I’m going home. And I’m pretty sure you won’t make it out alive.”

 

Rex flashed his teeth in a crooked smile, obviously unperturbed by your statement. “Sweetheart, you’ll be here for a long time. Get used to it.”

 

“You can’t fight him. And if you think you can you’re delusional.”

 

He laughed. “Oh dear God you even sound like him, that’s kinda cute~ But no, you see, I won’t _have_ to fight him. He’s never going to find me, or you, or his little brat.”

 

It didn’t matter what Rex said, Seto Kaiba would find you. And you would go home.

 

* * *

 

You were left alone in Rex’s dingy excuse for a bedroom for well over an hour, and just to keep your mind off the conversation you’d had, you made yourself busy with scrutinizing every tiny, meaningless detail you could possibly find. By the time he got back, you’d passed over the same impossibly small crack in the floor at least four times. Also, you were sure those decorative pillows did not match the comforter.

 

The door swung open and Rex peered at you from your space on the floor against the wall, looking just as bored as he had when he’d left. “Get up, I want you clean for dinner. I even have something nice for you to wear.”

 

He escorted you – armed – to the tiny bathroom around the corner from the bedroom, which was oddly clean and tidy for the sparse items inside. You tried locking the door behind you, but the deadbolt had been removed, leaving an open hole the size of your fist in the metal.

 

“The dress is hanging on the back of the door and you won’t get out of wearing it.”

 

Rex was gone with a few heavy footsteps and you decided to leave the dress until after your shower. You stripped, folded your clothes neatly, and set them on the counter by the sink. The only thought running through your mind was _please don’t open the door_ , until it was quickly overridden with _please let there be hot water_.

 

Had the shower been cold you would’ve been occupied for a far shorter amount of time, but not once did anyone offer to pound on the door and threaten you to hurry up. Which was a good thing, there wasn’t a shower curtain, just a faucet and a drain in the tile floor. There was also a bottle of shampoo, and it smelled like strawberries. That made you a little uncomfortable.

 

But rather than push your luck any farther, you turned the water off and pulled the towel from its hook next to the sink. You shivered as the cold air pulled the heat from your skin in wisps, and unzipped the garment bag hoping to find something warm.

 

You were already aware of how sick Rex could be, it wasn’t exactly lost to you. But the red dress you pulled from the hanger, identical to the one he had attempted to molest you in, made you absolutely sick to your stomach. The lacy thigh high stockings didn’t help either, even though they were white.

 

For a brief moment you debated with putting on your other clothes, the pajama pants and oversized shirt he’d kidnapped you in. But provoking him would only land you in more trouble, and you knew that appeasing him would be the safest, even if you didn’t like it.

 

So you put on the dress, the petticoat, the stockings, the lace bikini, and the garter belt. You felt like a tramp, like someone who was about to get paid money to do some of the kinky weird shit you’d only ever allow yourself to do with _maybe_ Seto. And even that was a bit of a stretch. So far he’d been pretty vanilla. Although, you wouldn’t exactly put it past him, but because you were just not in a place to think about it, you left it alone.

 

You hadn’t been given shoes to wear, so your feet were quiet on the concrete as you stepped back out into the hallway. The suited guard that stood next to the door grunted and beckoned you to follow him. You continued to pad alongside him in silence, becoming anxious as he led you further into the building. Around the corner and at the end of the hall there was a set of double metal doors, both pulled open to reveal a nearly empty and poorly lit room beyond.

 

Rex was sitting at a small table that only barely took up any of the space provided, and he watched you with a smile as you shuffled into the room. You hesitantly took the seat opposite him, keeping your eyes averted and your hands in your lap. He remained quiet until one of the suited men poured him a glass of cheap red wine and set his dinner plate on the table. You were paid no attention.

 

“I hope you don’t mind, but you fill out that dress a little more than the last time you wore it. I’m doing you a favor.” His smirk was faint, but you replied only with a blank stare.

 

You pursed your lips. “That’s okay, I don’t drink _vinegar_.”

 

He leveled his stare. “Wow, you _are_ spoiled rotten, aren’t you?”

 

He ate quietly as he stared at you, chewing slowly and always looking over the rim of his glass. You stared out the window to your right, thankful that at least he wasn’t eating fish heads. But you were still sure whatever it was left a foul taste in his mouth, and eventually you could smell his breath, especially when he started talking.

 

“So, do you guys have lots of fancy family dinners?”

 

“No.”

 

“Does he take you out all the time?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is he ever even _home_?”

 

“Eh.”

 

Rex groaned and let his hands fall against the table, shaking the dinnerware. “Don’t you think that’s at least a little bit weird? I mean hell, I know he doesn’t have all the time in the world but he shouldn’t write you off all the time.”

 

You did not respond, and kept your gaze even and concentrated out the window. After he let go of the small talk you relaxed, though still uncomfortable in the silence. As his “waiter” refilled his glass, you asked him your own question. “What have you done with Mokuba?”

 

“The brat? He’s still locked in the spare room, figured it’d be a while before he calmed down. Why, do you miss him?”

 

You replied with a snort, “I’m sure he’s fine. But the more you fuck with him the more hell you’ll have to pay.”

 

Now he was angry. “Why the _fuck_ do you all insist that I’m going to have my ass handed to me? Do you not get that he won’t be able to find you? That must not have sunken in yet. Stop _fucking_ talking about it.”

 

Laughing was a bad move on your part, but you couldn’t help it. “You are so naïve. I hope he makes you bleed before he kills you.”

 

Rex didn’t raise his voice like you expected him to. “Well then you better hope he gets here before tomorrow. Because after then, you won’t belong to him anymore.”

 

The look he gave you made you sick, and your skin crawled with the suggestion of him touching you in every way you didn’t want him to. You knew Seto would come, and you knew it was only a matter of time. But there were only so many things you could tolerate.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this time to make up for the absence, which I'm entirely sorry for. I had no intentions of this taking so long to get updated, so I figured I'd make up for it with an extra chapter.  
> Also, I apologize for the terribly included song lyrics, it's just not often that I find something that fits a situation well enough for me to think that others would benefit from knowing about it. I hope it doesn't distract from the reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

As soon as dinner was over you rose to leave, glad to be through with Rex’s bullshit for the night. Unfortunately, however, he shook his head and eyed you carefully, smirking as the clicking of the two guns in the room made you jump. You swallowed, hard, and waited for him to reprimand you for being so impatient.

 

_When she was just a girl, she expected the world._

 

“Don’t get eager yet, we’re not done for the night,” he sneered, walking around the table towards you. As you attempted to take a step back and away from him, he lashed out his arm and caught you around the waist, pulling you close enough against him to feel his intentions through his slacks.

 

You shivered and tried to lean away from him, scowling up towards the ceiling. His free hand caught your chin and forced you to look at him before snaking around your neck, pulling you close enough for him to force his lips sloppily on your own. Fighting back would’ve been easier if his grip hadn’t been so firm, and when you kept your teeth clamped together, he pulled at the short hairs on the back of your neck. Your lips parted in a quiet cry of pain, and he took advantage of your surprise, snaking his tongue into your mouth.

 

You shoved him away in desperation with tears in your eyes, both hands clamped in horror over your mouth.

 

_But it flew away from her reach, and the bullets catch in her teeth._

 

He watched your hands shake as they pulled away from your quivering lips, his own pulling up into a sadistic smile as your tears fell down the curve of your cheeks. When he advanced on you again the second clacking of guns kept you in place, you didn’t dare push your luck any farther.

 

In fear rather than anger, your eyes found something other than Rex to focus on as he slid one hand down your arm to hold yours in a traditional ballroom pose. He began to lead you around the empty space, digging his nails into your skin each time you missed a step and threw off his rhythm.

 

_Life goes on, it gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly. Every tear a waterfall._

 

Without a clock in the room you had no way to discern how long he’d forced you to play along with his sick revenge for what had happened the past year. You’d denied him a dance and now you were paying for it, and this time there was no one to intervene. No one to give him a warning glare when he got too close, to tell him off when he insulted you, or to pull him away when his hands traveled to where you didn’t want them. It was just you, and you were helpless.

 

He lead you into a wide twirl, your skirt and petticoat flaring in a way that would have been gorgeous if there had been a smile on your face. But you continued to cry and shiver, your feet were sore and numb from the cold concrete. Rex let go of your hand, crossed his arms over her chest, and huffed.

 

“Your behavior is annoying, if I didn’t get off on giving you time to think about it, I’d take you _right_ now. You’re so fucking pathetic.” He turned on you as you sunk to your knees, peering at the rain outside before calling to one of his men.

 

The man who had carried you in yesterday lumbered over and pulled you off the ground, draping you over his shoulder to carry you off. You obliged, going limp and pushing aside any instinct to fight back. It wouldn’t get you anywhere except in more trouble, and you had more than yourself to worry about.

 

It became clear after a few moments that you weren’t being taken back to the storage room or the poor excuse for a living room. He ascended the stairs to the ground floor, and you could hear the rain pelting the asphalt in the near distance. You weren’t chastised for pushing yourself up to look around, wanting to get a better look at the surroundings you couldn’t see the day before.

 

Most of the warehouse was empty, the majority of the boxes shoved against the sides to widen the space in the middle. The large metal doors were pulled open to reveal a view of the ocean, the edge of the road marking the railed drop off into the raging waters below. You couldn’t quite hear the crashing from where you were for the pounding rain, but you knew it was violent, and for a brief moment, you thought he would toss you in and leave you to die.

 

Instead, he walked stoically out into the rain, and you felt his skin twitch as the cold water soaked into his suit. You gasped and hissed through your teeth as your toes curled, and the way your skin crawled felt as though it was trying to pull away from your body altogether. Halfway between the entrance to the warehouse and the edge of the harbor, he stopped walking, pulled you from his shoulder, and set you on the ground.

 

You stood shakily, looking up at his broad face and answering his sunken expression with your own confusion.

 

His fingers curled and flexed about four times before he looked away in embarrassment. “You’re gettin’ real emotional. It’d be best for you to get it out now before I take you back in, I’d rather him not hurt you.”

 

_In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes._

 

For a moment you were caught in a sort of calm before the storm, where the cold ceased to bother you and your body went still. Then, in the span of a few short seconds, everything imploded and fell apart around you, and you helplessly dropped to your knees in utter defeat.

 

Who were you? That spunky little girl that acted as pseudo manager at the dinkiest café in town didn’t exist anymore. She had been left behind a _long_ time ago. You weren’t her anymore, and she’d been all you’d ever known. Now you were someone who had learned to take shit and step up when the occasion called. You’d been put in a situation, being _intimately_ involved with Seto Kaiba, that had turned you into someone entirely new.

 

On top of that, you were struggling with that relationship. There had been more time spent questioning his motives, his feelings, and his opinion of you than time the two of you spent together. You were far more familiar with the burdens of the relationship than the fruits of the long laborious days that drained you of even your dwindling energy. Now, you were just _tired_. You were tired, lost, freezing cold, you felt disgusted, violated, and abandoned, and everything just hurt. Your feet ached, your head was pounding, your skin was numb, and your heart felt shriveled and small.

 

You didn’t know what would become of you, what mattered anymore, why you had ever been important in the first place. Instead, you were just a helpless little girl, shivering in the rain, having been kidnapped by someone who simply couldn’t leave well enough alone. And in the middle of it all, this man, one of the gang members, showed legitimate concern for your health and well-being. It turned your whole world upside down and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

 

_In the night the stormy night away she'd fly._

With your shoulders hunched and your fists clenched you began cry. It wasn’t subtle, it wasn’t quiet, it wasn’t cute, and it wasn’t restrained. You wailed and screamed and howled into the pelting rain, cursing the storm for not being strong enough to wipe everything away, and for the rain being so brutal and hateful. It was liberating in the most painful of ways, and a for a moment you damned yourself for being so selfish, then said ‘fuck it all’ because how much longer were you going to have to suffer before it was your turn to be pitied?

 

Your screeching sobs were cleansing, and it took only a few minutes before you settled, relaxed and calm despite your unsavory predicament. The rain began to turn warm, felt nice against your numb skin, and finally, you stood back up. You were empty now, hollow of your self-loathing, and yet full of some kind of dangerous vigor. The kind that made you feel powerful in a powerless position.

 

Quickly, your emotions began to clear and order themselves out.

 

Fuck Kaiba if he didn’t come, you didn’t need him, the fact that Mokuba had been taken with you was plenty motivation enough to get you to figure a way out. However, you knew that he would come, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t, but thinking that you didn’t need him made you feel better about yourself.

 

Also, fuck his shitty attitude. You loved him _fiercely_ , and that was exactly why you were going to beat him up one side and down the other about how much of a dick he’d been the next time you saw him. It was time to stop shrinking away every time he yelled at you, and it was high time that you started yelling back. Metaphorically, of course, unless it came to a literal situation.

 

But most importantly, _fuck Rex Raptor_. That little shit had been a pain in your ass for far too long, and whether or not it was by your hand, you’d make sure he’d get what was coming to him. There’s a special place in Hell for his kind, and you’d see to it that he got there in as timely a fashion as could be managed.

 

You didn’t wait for the man to tell you to move, you simply walked back inside yourself, not needing or wanting your hand to be held. His heavy footsteps echoed behind you, and you were sure there was a gun pointed to your head as persuasion. “Where to?”

 

He stuttered a moment, he probably wasn’t expecting such a change. “Just to the living room, I think.”

 

Without a word you proceeded down the stairs, trailing water behind you with little puddles on each stair. Rex was waiting on the couch for you, though looking more annoyed than you had expected. You didn’t join him, just stood within a few feet instead.

 

“You know,” he began, “maybe your poor behavior is my fault. I guess isolating you isn’t going to work, so I’ll make you a deal.” His eyes flashed up to meet your glare, and he subtly shifted to relax farther into the cushions. “I’ll let you spend some time with the little rat _if_ you’ll promise to stop acting like an abused child. Does that sound fair?”

 

You weren’t about to tell him that he’d never see another one of your tears again, regardless of whether or not he let you see Mokuba. “Fine.”

 

Rex waved a hand and gave the nearest grunt a command. You watched one of the men pull out a small keyring and jiggle the door lock, waiting for a hand before opening the door. The extra help reached over the other’s arms, grabbing Mokuba by the shoulders to keep him from running off.

 

Honestly, the kid had seen better days, and you tried to keep from wearing your broken heart on your sleeve. But his face was blotchy, his eyes were red, his hair was a knotted mess, and when he spoke his voice rasped and made you cringe.

 

“ _Mom_ ,” he said, trying to jerk free to run to you.

 

You were told to spend your time together in the room he’d been locked in, and as soon as he’d been let go and the door was locked behind you, Mokuba grabbed at your dress and clung to you needily.

 

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” He fought with himself to pull away enough to look you over without breaking too much physical contact.

 

His strained voice clawed at your ears and you tensed. “I’m okay, I promise.” You held him tightly, rocking him back and forth as you ran a gentle hand through his hair, avoiding the knots as best you could. After a moment you pushed him back a little, cupping his face in your hands. “Did they hurt _you_?”

 

He shook his head and pressed his hands over yours, leaning into you lovingly.

 

You took a good look around the room he’d been put in, which was empty aside from a few filing cabinets, all of which were guarded with padlocks of various shapes and sizes. Another useless room to you. That was fine.

 

“Mokuba,” you said, waiting for him to look up at you. “I promise we’ll get out of here, okay?”

 

He smiled, weakly, and closed his eyes. “I know. Niisama’s coming.”

 

Your fingers clenched slightly, and you suddenly realized how unnerving it sounded to you for him to call Seto ‘niisama’ rather than just addressing him by name, which he’s always done. Until the two of you got here. Rather than being a comforting reassurance, it sounded more like a child taunting his bullies with the promise of getting a beating from his older sibling.

 

But then maybe that’s what it was. Perhaps when Mokuba ends up in even a moderately helpless situation, he just reverts back to the child he was at the orphanage. You had never dared to ask Seto for details, but Mokuba had willingly offered them, always from his own perspective, and you’d come to realize that he’d relied on Seto for protection from a far younger age than you’d originally imagined.

 

So perhaps this was just his way of coping with the situation, pretending to be that helpless child who always _knew_ that his brother would come to his rescue. And in an effort to mentally ground him there, he drops Seto’s name altogether in favor of the otherwise respectful and generic term “big brother”.

 

It didn’t really matter, you weren’t about to bring up concerns and risk his security, you’d just rather Seto come before Mokuba started losing hope for his arrival.

 

To be fair, it’d only been a day, assuming he’d been alerted immediately it was still a long flight back, he’d only had maybe twelve hours so far and probably no sleep. But Rex’s words still lingered in your mind, and after tomorrow you didn’t know what would become of you. Of course you were aware of what he wanted, it disgusted you beyond belief and scared you at least a little.

 

But that didn’t really hold much of a candle to just how undone Seto would be if he realized he’d been too late to save you from that.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces someone new, and I hope their portrayal is well received, I'm quite fond of it~

You weren’t allowed to spend maybe more than an hour with Mokuba, but you cherished every minute, and promised over and over that you’d both be leaving soon and that you’d stay safe if he did. He was locked away, again, and you were left to deal with Rex and whatever sick ideas he had for the two of you until he decided to lock you away for the night as well.

 

For a while he kept you on the couch with him, your stocking legs draped over his while he ran his hand along and over your calves, the callouses of his fingertips catching on the fabric. You cringed internally with each stroke, gritted your teeth when he stressed the nylon, and refused to look at him directly. He generally never traveled above your knees, but it still kept your head in the moment, kept you aware of him and where you were.

 

The one time his hand did travel farther than it needed to, you stiffened under his unwanted touch and scowled with warning. He replied with a smirk, a challenge, as he slid his hand farther up your dress.

 

You jerked your head away and glared at the wall below the TV. “I won’t fight you. But you’d do better to keep your hands where I can see them.”

 

Perhaps you expected him to be a little more passive, so when he shoved you back against the couch cushions, pinning you down with your hands at your shoulders, it was startling. It didn’t quite knock the wind out of you, but he caught you by enough surprise to have made it easy for him. But you squirmed relentlessly, determined to not come across as idle.

 

He loomed in such a way that made you wonder if he’d been harboring intentions. “I hope you realize that I’ve been gentle up until this point. But you don’t have that luxury anymore.” Rex slowly eased the pressed from your wrists, and watched you carefully as you sat up.

 

For a moment you thought maybe you were in the clear. But the instant you opened your mouth to say something he drove his hand across the left side of your face, leaving a hot sting that permeated deep into your flesh.

 

After that you were a little more compliant, but only when you had to be. You tried not to shy away from his touch, otherwise he’d taken to pinching you and leaving small bruises. But you only spoke when spoken to, offered as minimal of a response as you could manage, and tried to give him as little as you could while keeping him satisfied.

 

In some ways he was like a small child, needy and always particular in what he wanted. He didn’t always want attention, but if you didn’t give it to him the right way he’d retaliate. By the end of two hours there’d been a handful of tiny bruises that he’d added to the few still fading hickeys from a couple nights before.

 

“I’m disgusted that he touches you.”

 

_I’m sure you are_.  But you didn’t vocalize an answer, you’d be pinched again, probably on your leg where he knew it hurt. For a brief moment, even, you allowed yourself to go back to that night, in the Miami hotel, just before your memory falters and there’s nothing left to remember. It made you shudder.

 

He slapped you across the face.

 

“Don’t think about it.”

 

It hurt, stung deep and you knew there’d be a red spot for a while. Somehow, it didn’t really matter, and maybe that was because you didn’t want it to matter. After this was over, after you were back home, you didn’t want _this_ to matter. You didn’t want to be caught up in this hell days and weeks after it was over, feeling like you were trapped and becoming a burden to those around you.

 

Therefore, you wouldn’t let it matter in the moment.

 

You could see him glare at you from the edge of your vision, irritated that you hadn’t given him a reaction. But he didn’t press. When you shuddered again and he raised his hand to slap you, grimacing, you leaned away and swatted at his hand.

 

“I’m fucking cold, you asshole.”

 

Rex jerked away, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, as if ready to hit you either way. He could hit you all he wanted, it wouldn’t make a difference later. For every red mark Seto found you were sure he’d put another bullet somewhere in Rex’s delusional brain. Soon. Then it would be over. You didn’t doubt it.

 

Until then, however, you’d grit your teeth through the pain, take whatever he dished, and keep your mouth shut about it. He wouldn’t see you cry, and he wouldn’t hear you complain. Period.

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, which wasn’t quite as long as Mokuba’s but it was just as unruly. “Fine. Go change.” He turned and motioned to one of his men. “Bring her back here when she’s done.”

 

You were led by an unfamiliar man back to the bathroom where your pajamas had been left, folded neatly on the edge of the sink. Shuddering, you peeled off the still damp garment, unhooked the garter belt, and pulled off the stockings. Without much of a thought, you left them in a wet puddle in the middle of the floor, eager to pull on your fleece pants and oversized shirt.

 

The man made no comment about the dress when you opened the door, and wordlessly marched alongside you back to the main room, where there was now an extra body commanding all attention.

 

By all accounts, she was beautiful. Her platinum hair fell like silk down her back and her skin looked as though it was dusted with fired porcelain. You were also sure that one look from her wicked blue eyes could kill you in less than a second.

 

And you were surprised that they hadn’t, considering the intensity she was staring at you with.

 

She turned to you fully in her stylish leather catsuit, garnished with two hand guns and an array of throwing knives. “Well well,” she breathed, “you aren’t much of a catch, are you?”

 

You didn’t move from where you stood, still lingering in the hall at the edge of the room. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t even speak. Though, you did process the insult, and narrowed your eyes accordingly.

 

“Oh what are you gonna do? Fight me?” Her grin put you on edge, but she kept her distance, and turned her attention back to Rex when you continued to remain silent. “You know what the boss will do if he catches wind that you’ve got a hostage.”

 

Rex scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s not a hostage. And he won’t know, _no one_ will.”

 

The woman rolled her eyes as she leaned against the back of the couch, one hand lazily propped on her hip. “What is she, then? Your play thing?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You’re such a fucking pig.” There was a pause, then she stood up straight. “So, where’d you find her?”

 

With a broad smile, Rex turned and looked up at the woman towering over him. “I stole her from someone~”

 

She didn’t look very amused. “Oh yeah? From who?”

 

Rex shook his head. “It’s not important yet, maybe I’ll tell you after I pop her cherry.”

 

Her eyes were on you again. “You’re a virgin?”

 

“ _No_!” you shot, disgusted with your captor’s lack of tact. “And it’s nobody’s business!” The conversation was starting to make you highly uncomfortable.

 

“God you’re feisty.” She turned away from you and back to the other. “Why did you get one that could fight back?”

 

“She doesn’t really fight back, she just cries a lot.”

 

The woman arched a brow at you, her hand pulling a pistol free from the holster at her right hip. “Oh yeah?” She aimed the gun in your general direction and pulled the trigger.

 

The bullet cracked the cement in the wall about four feet from your head, and you cowered away from it instinctively, your hands raised to shield yourself. The clap wasn’t as loud and your ears weren’t ringing, but your pulse drummed in your head.

 

She didn’t get much of a word out before there was a bang from across the room, and you heard Mokuba’s shrill cry through the metal door.

 

“What was that?” Her head turned towards the other side of the room, he cried out again. “Mom...? You snagged her son, too?” She took a few steps over, her gait controlled but fluid.

 

Rex stood with his hands in his pockets. “Eh, not exactly. I don’t really know why he calls her ‘Mom’, I think it’s kinda sick.” When she reached for the door handle he stiffened. “Uh, you should probably just leave him alone.”

 

She laughed once, short and sweet, like a cut off harp note. “If he’s cute I might take him off your hands~” The guard standing closest to her offered his key, and she pulled the door open and stepped aside.

 

Mokuba tumbled out, his arms flailing and his eyes wild with fear. “Mom!” He found you, safe and sound, and tears began to streak down his still blotchy face. “I thought...” He paused, shaking, then looked up at the woman standing next to him, who had gone silent and rigid. They were both quiet, then he spoke softly. “ _You_ ,” he whispered, taking a cautionary step away.

 

The woman snapped her eyes viciously on Rex. She spoke slowly and evenly. “Do you have any idea who this is?”

 

Rex nodded, but seemed agitated rather than intimidated. “So what?”

 

Her eyes blazed before they tore away from him and landed on you. She didn’t speak to you, but stared for an elongated moment before redirecting her anger. “Rex. Tell me _exactly_ what her relationship is to him.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, he was just as the house with her, we couldn’t leave him there.”

 

She shook her head. “You don’t seem to understand what you’ve done.” Now she turned back to you, taking long and deliberate steps in your direction. “How are you involved with him?” She jabbed one manicured finger at Mokuba, who was now restrained.

 

You backed yourself against the wall as she continued to approach, too afraid to not answer. “I’m dating his older brother.”

 

Immediately, she stopped. Her eyes widened and her anger took on multiple levels of other complex emotions. “You?” she breathed, stunned. “He’s with...” She shook her head, then took a heavy step back. Suddenly her rage boiled over, and you thought she might spit fire. “ _That traitor_!”

 

Rex shrunk as she approached him, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket.

 

“I hope you realize how deep you’ve dug your own grave!” She jerked him away from herself and promptly left the room, her short heels clacking as she ascended the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

 

The room was still for a brief moment after she left, but Mokuba, grinning childishly, broke the silence.

 

“Niisama’s _really_ gonna be angry now.” His eyes seemed to know something you did not, perhaps about the woman’s evident relationship – intimate or vague – with Seto Kaiba. “She’s right,” he turned to Rex, “your grave _is_ pretty deep.”

 

Mokuba was locked away for the remainder of the night, you were left to huddle at the end of the couch while Rex had someone dry out the dress, and no one spoke a word of the woman who’d appeared quite literally out of nowhere. You asked only once, and were shot down harshly. After that, you kept to yourself.

 

You were fed no dinner, to which your stomach loudly complained, and every so often you felt a little nauseous. Trying to ignore it only prolonged the already dragging hours, but eventually Rex just grew tired of you and sent you back into the bathroom to change before bed.

 

“When I see you in the morning, you better have on a smile to match that dress.” He didn’t say anything else to you before you were escorted back down to the lower level and into the storage room, cold and alone for another sleepless night.

 

And how could you sleep? She haunted you like a ghost, moved like one in your thoughts, and unsettled you in the worst sort of way.

 

You didn’t know who she was, but obviously Seto did.


	33. Chapter 33

The sad amount of sleep you managed to get was light and only made your bones ache when you were roused by a loud, thunderous whir. You opened your eyes groggily and turned your head upwards and off the floor. The sound was coming from above you, but it was muffled, almost distant. You pushed yourself off the cold floor, steadied against a crate, and staggered over to the window. It didn’t offer anything, being far too small and in just an awful place to give you a view of anything but the sky and the building next to you.

 

You sat against a stack of boxes, listening to the steady shallow thumping, and waited. Truthfully you didn’t know what you were waiting for, probably someone to open the door and either alert you to what was going on or demand that you follow them somewhere. About forty-seven seconds passed before the door flew open, crashing into the wall.

 

“Let’s move!” It was the man who had walked you out into the pouring rain. The one who had cared. “You’re gettin’ out of here!”

 

That was a comforting thought, but not the words you’d expected. Perhaps you really had managed to fall asleep, and were dreaming. Your stockinged legs heaved you away from the boxes and marched you across the room to the man, who pulled you through the doorway and tried to drag you down the hall.

 

It wasn’t clear what train of thought had snapped you out of your state of semi-consciousness, or what had prompted your sudden alertness. But halfway down the hall, you were very aware that you were, in fact, escaping, and it had thrust you into full on panic mode. Fight or flight. Except you were trying to do both.

 

The man had rushed ahead to the stairs, presumably to check for an all clear, when you were grabbed from behind and had a gun pressed painfully against your temple. Fight took over, you craned your neck to bite his hand, jerked from his grasp, pried away his gun, and shot him in the head.

 

There had been no thinking, only doing, and intellectually you were trembling. But on the outside, you were rigid and skittish. Mentally, you were having a nervous breakdown about having just shot a man, but otherwise, you were physically prepared to do it again.

 

You took the stairs slowly and one at a time, hunkering down against the wall as the sound of ripping metal cut through the concrete and into your ears. Wincing, you looked up, kept low to the ground, and ascended the rest of the stairs.

 

The floor just below ground, the one you were most familiar with, was caught in disarray, bodies scrambling everywhere as Rex shrieked orders and flitted about among them. While you remained unnoticed, a group of men, five or six, made their way topside, and another bolted the door behind them. The rest, maybe ten, found cover and continued to shout amongst themselves.

 

Someone saw you, pointed and hollered for attention. You didn’t wait to see if the others noticed through the commotion, you just shot him and made sure he was quiet. Panic started to take over, eating away at rational survival.

 

The others noticed, readied their guns, but were reprimanded almost immediately.

 

“No!” Rex was hiding against the couch, which had been moved against the wall adjacent to you, leaving more space in the center. “Don’t shoot her!” His own pistol was locked at his side.

 

The sound of heavy gunfire rattled just above you, mixing with the screams of wounded or dying men. You couldn’t focus on it, or any individual in the room with you. You couldn’t even focus on yourself, your own shaking body, and when the bolted security door that lead topside blew open, you fired at the first of Rex’s men to so much as look at you.

 

You shot two before your brain caught up with your body, and then you noticed the hoard of others storming in, taking aim, and opening fire. Somewhere between shots you heard Rex call out for someone to grab you, so you threw yourself against a wall and kept the gun up at all times, forcing your finger off the trigger.

 

Rex cursed, yelled, had a short lived argument with someone before a distinct clap echoed above the clicks of the rest. The suited men, gang members, had all either been shot or sustained by the other, far more appropriately dressed troops. Each of them had the Kaiba Corp. logo embroidered into their vests.

 

For just a tiny moment you reveled in the feeling of getting to go home, and in that short span of time you’d sunken to the floor and found the barrel of Rex’s gun with your still frenzied gaze. His eyes darted away for just a second, and you followed them with intrigue, your breath catching in your throat as they landed on Seto Kaiba.

 

There was no hesitation, no words, no hint of movement as he shot Rex through the hand, disarming him. You watched with wide eyes as he pulled him from the floor and pinned him to the wall, slamming the back of his skull against the concrete.

 

“Dammit, Kaiba!” he cried, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

 

Kaiba shoved him again and made him choke. Then he held him out at arm’s length, still fully off the ground, and shot him once in the leg. He didn’t flinch as Rex clawed at his arm, digging his nails into the fabric of his suit jacket. When he ceased his screaming, Kaiba leaned in and spoke very plainly. “I’m not leaving until you _beg_ me to kill you.”

 

The stench of blood began to assault your sinuses, and you cringed, watching the blood ooze from his open wounds and puddle on the ground, staining it forever.

 

Rex jerked and fought. “Fuck you!

 

Kaiba shot him between the legs.

 

The boy jerked and howled, screamed at the top of his lungs, and kicked weakly in Kaiba’s direction. “ _Motherfucker_!” Tears fell freely from his eyes as they puffed, and his cries on pain very quickly turned into sobs.

 

Across the room there was a loud thudding sound coming from the door, where three of Kaiba’s men were working on the lock. As they disabled the locking system and pulled open the door, Mokuba stumbled out and looked around, a small childlike smile appearing on his lips.

 

Kaiba took only a few seconds to assess his brother, then put another bullet through Rex’s stomach. “ _That_ , was for my brother.” He closed his fingers tighter around the boy’s neck. “ _This_ is for my girlfriend.” He shot through his other hand, then let him fall to the floor in a heap of blood and tears. “Are you ready to die yet? I don’t have all day.”

 

Rex choked, his breathing ragged, and shook violently as his body went into shock. “ _Bastard,_ ” he croaked, glaring halfheartedly up at Kaiba, who was still looming over him.

 

Kaiba shot him through his scarred shoulder, then pointed his gun between the boy’s eyes. As he opened his mouth, one of the men closest to you shouted out a warning.

 

“Sir, we’ve got a body topside headed our way. It’s female.”

 

At this, Rex began to jerk and try to press himself further against the wall, his eyes growing wild and fearful. “Shit!” He looked up at Kaiba. “Fucking shoot me then!”

 

Kaiba only stared. “Who is she?”

 

Rex shook his head. “It doesn’t matter!”

 

“Sir, she’s two-hundred feet out.”

 

“Get on with it!” Rex begged. “ _Please_!”

 

Kaiba clenched his jaw. “You got lucky.” He shot once, and Rex fell over.

 

A group of men to your right shuffled slowly over to you, ready to help you out of the building, but left room for Kaiba to see to you first.

 

Your eyes were staring at the ground, though not focused, when Kaiba approached you, knelt down, and started speaking softly. Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you were glad he was there. The words didn’t register, but his voice did, and it helped take the edge off. You stopped shaking.

 

His hands brushed against yours and clicked the safety on the gun still clenched in your grip. “I need you to let go,” he coaxed softly, his fingers working at your own to gently pry them away. Once your grip was loosened he pulled the gun from your hands and slid it across the floor and away from you. “It’s time to get you home.”

 

You were escorted through the door and up to the ground floor by two of the men, both of the brothers ahead of you and the rest of the men moved to scout. You hadn’t gone ten steps towards the open doors before two gunshots fell the men on either side of you, and an arm wrapped harshly around your neck.

 

“Hold it,” the woman called, her pistol pointed lazily at you while her fingernails dug into your shoulder.

 

The group of men all raised their firearms, three of them were instructed to take Mokuba on to the helicopter, and Kaiba looked on with an expression you’d never seen on him. It looked akin to fear.

 

The woman behind you laughed. “Oh please, you didn’t honestly expect to get away from _me_ , did you?”

 

Kaiba kept his gun down. “What are you talking about?”

 

She scoffed. “Don’t tell me that in the last seven years, you haven’t _once_ thought about how suspicious it was that I, of all people, didn’t show up.” When he remained silent, she continued on. “You know, you’re a fool if you honestly believe the whole thing never happened.”

 

He glowered. “Don’t make me shoot you.”

 

“You wouldn’t. You’re an asshole and a traitor. But I know you wouldn’t do that.” Despite her words, you felt her stiffen against you.

 

“What makes you so sure?”

 

Her grip slackened ever so slightly. “Because you love me.”

 

_I am tired, I hurt, I want to go home, and this bitch is starting to seriously piss me off._ “Look, I don’t know who you _think_ you are, but I just want to go home. I don’t even know you.” The words came out before you could stop them, but what more harm could they do.

 

As she pressed her gun to your head, Kaiba reacted and aimed right over your shoulder. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?” she asked.

 

“There’s nothing to tell. You’re delusional.”

 

“You didn’t think that three thousand years ago, you loved me. You still do.” She tilted her head and her hair ticked against your shoulder. “So who was she? A palace maid?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“One of the Pharaoh’s hired dancers?”

 

“I’m warning you.”

 

“Or perhaps just another street rat you so humbly saved.”

 

“Dammit Kisara! Let her go!”

 

The woman, Kisara, shoved you down onto your knees and loomed over your head, and you heard the safety on her gun click off. “You know, I’m insulted that after everything that happened, you still choose to forget. Stop acting like I don’t exist.”  
  
“Then stop acting like I’m the same man that saved your life, because I’m _not_.” He glared down the barrel of his gun, and you could tell his patience was running far too thin. And as one of his men sidled up to him, speaking too low for you to hear, Seto bristled with a ferocity that you’d never seen before. “You’ve got three seconds to back off before I shoot. One.”

 

Her grip tightened again. “You’re lying.”

 

“Two.”

 

You could feel her breathing quicken as she pressed against you. “I know you wouldn’t.”

 

“Three.”

 

“ _Seto_ –!”

 

You felt warmth splatter against your neck and shoulder, and as soon as her arm went slack across your body, you threw her arm over your head and darted away, trying to keep your balance in your stockings. Kaiba ushered you in the direction of his lingering men, but you could still hear his voice as you were escorted away.

 

“For the record, you aren’t even the same Kisara.”

 

And then one final gunshot.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the terrible pacing, but I didn't want to linger on a hospital scene.

The time between you running out of the building, getting shoved into one of three helicopters, and hearing gunshots in the distance while trying to see if Kisara was dead or not, was slow and blurred and left you nauseous. The loud whirring deafened your ears, and your sense of location was so far gone that you really couldn’t fight back the various sets of hands that were trying to push you down against a medical bed.

 

There were at least three women and two men in your field of vision, none of whom you recognized, and all of them were trying to shout questions at you through the thumping of the helicopter. In fact, you were so caught up in trying to ask where anyone was, you hardly noticed that two of them were trying to undress you. And you didn’t know until the dress was already being pulled up and over your compliant arms.

 

“Hey hey!” You jerked and writhed under their hands, but that only helped them more than it did you, and you were left in your underwear to shiver as the air whipped through the open cabin. “What are you doing!”

 

One of the men look flustered. “We have to check for injuries! Mr. Kaiba’s orders!”

 

 _Mr. Kaiba’s orders my ass._ “Well there’s nothing to check! I’m fine!”

 

He hesitated. “I’m sorry, miss! I’m just doing my job!”

 

“I don’t care! Give me back my clothes!” None of them offered to argue further, but you were given something else to change into, and you gratefully discarded the belt and hosiery for the sweatpants and t-shirt. “Where are we going!”

 

The nurse closest to you looked among the others before answering. “We’re taking you to the hospital!”

 

You stiffened. “I don’t want to go to the hospital! I don’t _need_ to!”

 

“Sorry miss, Mr. Kaiba’s orders!”

 

It became very evident that Seto had given everyone very specific instructions on what to do with you, and because he was in the other chopper with Mokuba, you couldn’t yell at him until you got nice and cozy somewhere probably in the trauma wing.

 

Because he probably assumed the worst and figured it’d be better to be safe instead of sorry.

 

Which was all fine and good. Except he’d made it just in time and you were totally okay with no real injuries to speak of and the hospital was the last place you wanted to go.

 

But a short seven minutes later found you being unloaded and rushed inside by an overly frantic group of nurses. They hauled you down the main corridor, past the ER, and into an empty room by the nurse’s station. You sat up and glowered with your arms across your chest as you waited for someone important to show up.

 

The next woman to grace you with her unwanted presence was a Dr. Shuyen, and you desperately wished she’d drop the overly fake ‘I’m here to help you, you can tell me anything’ act.

 

For the next forty minutes all she did was ask invasive questions about your sex life, birth control, previous pregnancies, STIs, STDs, and how many sexual partners you’d had in the last so many years. Then she prodded about any physical abuse, past or recent in accordance to your kidnapping, possible drug usage, and then very gently brought up the subject of rape.

 

“No, he never got that far.”

 

She sat on the end of the bed with her clipboard across her lap. “Did he touch you in any way?”

 

“Only to pinch me and grab my butt.”

 

“Are those bruises,” she pointed to your neck, “from him?”

 

“No. They’re entirely consensual.”

 

“Was there anything that you ate during your time there that seemed... suspicious?”

 

“No.”

 

“What about water?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did any of the other men involved try to make advances?”

 

“ _No_. And how many more useless questions are you going to ask me?” You didn’t exactly intend to be rude to her, but it was tiring and you really didn’t want to deal with her.

 

She sighed, smiling slightly. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m only trying to help, if you tell me everything then we’ll be able to avoid any unnecessary complications later on.”

 

You fought not to roll your eyes. “And I’m telling you that there’s nothing left to tell. I’ve told you everything that’s happened, I’d like to move on.”

 

Instead of pressing, she nodded and looked back over her clipboard. “Alright then, I’ll have the nurse come in just a few minutes.”

 

You groaned. “I don’t _want_ the nurse, I want Kaiba. And my discharge papers. I want to go home!” By the end you were practically yelling after her, as she’d gotten up to leave in the middle of your protests. Once she left the room you slumped back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling, wondering if you could just get up and walk out.

 

But before you worked up the nerve to do so, the mentioned nurse came in, all smiles and cheery eyes.

 

“Good afternoon, my name is –“

 

You couldn’t stand it anymore. So, without acknowledging her, you slid out of the bed, ignored how frantically she tried to tell you to stay in bed, and marched out into lobby by the nurse’s station.

 

Seto was looming over the counter discussing his insurance, and when you saw him you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream at him or throw yourself against him and cry. Mostly, you ended up going with the latter, though it wasn’t violent, and there were no immediate tears.

 

But you did very purposefully walk over and wrap your arms around him as tightly as you could underneath the warmth of his coat. You could feel him shift, but you only clenched tighter and nearly buckled under the weight of what you’d been caught up in.

 

You were only now just fully registering what had happened. You had shot a handful of nameless men. Killed them. For protection or not. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself, to talk yourself down or out of it. It just happened. And the guilt weighed on you with a horrible coldness. It wasn’t quite shame, but close enough to it that it’d stay with you for a long time.

 

“I just want to go home,” you breathed, dropping your arms to stare at the floor. Then the tears began to fall, and your shoulders shook with the hard pressed reality of your new world and the things you knew you’d have to deal with. And all you wanted was for him to hold you and promise that everything would be okay, even if you felt otherwise.

 

He might not have said anything, you were sure he was still glaring down the nurse over the counter about your discharge papers. But he still tangled his free hand in your hair and pulled you back against him, and you hoped he understood how much you’d missed him, and how badly you wanted to be back in the comfort of your bedroom.

 

Eventually he had to let you go, you understood, and quickly found Mokuba as a replacement for the comforting warmth. You were glad he was okay, glad that he hadn’t been hurt or tortured because of your misbehavior. It would take a while for the guilt to leave, to stop feeling awful for him having been caught up in the mess because of you. But you knew he’d never blame you, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and that helped.

 

You were given only a small, scarcely filled bottle of prescription meds for insomnia, you wouldn’t touch the one of antidepressants. After that you were escorted out through the front doors, with Mokuba’s hand in yours and Seto’s arm around your waist.

 

Roland was leaning against the side of the limo, poised to hold open the door. The two held you close until you were near enough to break away and greet the other. Admittedly, you were never particularly close to Roland, didn’t talk to or see him much, even. But you knew how much he meant to the brothers, what he’d done for them, and you were sure that he was just as thankful to see you safe as he was Mokuba.

 

“It’s good to have you both back, safe and sound. We’ve all been worried sick.” He hugged back with just as much vigor, caught you around your shoulder blades and Mokuba on top of his head. After a moment he pulled back, smiling. “Alright, let’s get you all home.”

 

The ride home was spent in silence, with you and Mokuba on either side of Seto, while he held you both with the intent and enough strength to never let you go. While the two of you huddled up and allowed Seto to act as the overprotective man of the house, you kept one hand on Mokuba’s shoulder as he did the same to you, smiling as his hair tousled in his face.

 

You could hear when the limo turned onto the gravel path that wound around the front gardens, and you were finally home. The gate creaked open, though the sound was more welcoming than eerie, and you watched the trimmed hedges pass by the window over Mokuba’s head. When the limo stopped in front of the doors Roland hastily let the three of you out and had the door open and waiting.

 

Seto walked you both through the front doors, and you felt your knees buckle under the weight of your own relief.

 

You were home. And everyone was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter has been written, and I warn you, it's very long. But the wait shouldn't be.


	35. Chapter 35

Seto and Mokuba exchanged a fierce hug and quiet ‘I love you’s, then the younger brother pulled you into the same short ritual before smiling and heading upstairs to his room where you were sure he’d spend the afternoon sleeping. When you moved to lean on Seto he shifted and hooked both arms under your knees and shoulders, then quietly carried you upstairs.

 

You closed your eyes and hummed. “Can I lay down?”

 

“After a bath.”

 

Internally you were whining in protest, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to fight him or get him to change his mind. Also, you probably smelled like fish and wet concrete, and you knew that Seto hated sleeping in a bed that wasn’t clean. So you nodded instead, and only opened your eyes when he moved to set you on the tiled edge of the bathtub.

 

By anyone else’s standards, what you were met with would have absolutely been considered romantic. But because you knew how Seto Kaiba operated when it came to caring for the people he felt were important, it wasn’t romantic so much as it was comforting.

 

The window above the tub had been pushed open and there was a light breeze blowing into the bathroom that followed the spilling sunshine. There were short vines of morning glories hanging from the window sill, all a deep purple and fully open towards the sunlight. The corners of the tile ledges were arranged with lavender and pink rose botanical candles, which filled the room with a pleasantly settled aroma.

 

By the time you worked your clothes off the candles had been lit and there was something fizzing and bubbling in the warm water. Seto had taken up your pile of clothes and moved them into the bedroom to be put with the laundry while you sank tiredly into the pinkening water. You poked and prodded at the disintegrating ball rolling around on the bottom of the tub, which was only now the size of your fist and leaking flower petals everywhere.

 

The whole thing was just enough _not_ Seto Kaiba to be _exactly_ Seto Kaiba.

 

When he finally joined you, you were huddled at one end of the tub and playing with some of the escaped flowers. “What are these?”

 

He settled into the water with a shiver. “Hydrangeas.”

 

You looked at them thoughtfully, but let the flower drift about in the water as Seto pulled you close to him and pressed his lips into your hair. He was quiet for a moment, rubbing his hands over your back and shoulders to warm your skin. When the water trickled back into the tub you shook with a small chill, prompting him to start the process over again.

 

“I missed you,” you said quietly, watching the tiny fizzy bubbles foam on the surface.

 

He kissed you once, then guided your hair under the running faucet to get it wet before the tub filled too far. Gently, he ran his fingers through the mused and tangled mess, starting at the ends and working his way up before repeating the process with shampoo. You’d been thoroughly lathered and rinsed by the time he turned the jets on low and turned off the faucet. Afterwards he leaned you against him and slowly started to work out the kinks in your back. “I should have let you stay with me.”

 

You tiredly shook your head. “This isn’t your fault.”

 

He hummed to himself. “I still shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the arrangements I could’ve made. You’re just as important to me as my job, and I need to start treating you like it. I should’ve learned by now,” he offered.

 

It wasn’t that he was wrong, but you were too exhausted to point fingers for anything. “You’re still trying. That matters. And I don’t blame you for anything.”

 

As he detangled your hair with conditioner he remained quiet, keeping his eyes averted from yours until he turned you around and pulled your head down into his lap. He rubbed your arms and shoulders as you shivered under the hot water, then ran his fingers through your hair as you relaxed. When he was sure your hair was clean he pulled you back up and around to face him. “I’m just happy you’re safe.”

 

You smiled at him faintly, and let him continue with making sure you were clean of the previous few days. He scrubbed you quite thoroughly, got behind your ears and under your chin, only pausing as he pulled your left leg up to get between your toes. He looked down at the handful of peppered bruises along the outside of your thigh, and frowned.

 

“What happened?”

 

You rolled your eyes. “He just pinched me whenever he got mad.”

 

“Did he do this anywhere else?”

 

“No.”

 

It was evident that he was fighting himself not to ask questions, you figured he didn’t want to make you talk about it after he’d tried so hard to make you feel comfortable and at ease again. But you didn’t want to watch him feel guilty. “Don’t worry, nothing happened.”

 

He only nodded his head and finished cleaning you up, and you tried to spare his already guilty conscious by not clamping your legs together when he proved to be determined to make sure all of you was clean. When he was finished he allowed you lay on his stomach and relax.

 

For a few minutes you just let the smell of roses and lilacs fill your nose while he traced circles across your skin. It was hard not to fall asleep on him, but you didn’t want to have to make him wake you up, so eventually you started up a conversation. “How were the rest of your meetings after I left?”

 

Seto huffed. “Boring. And pointless. I think eventually I’m going to get tired of people kissing my ass all the time.”

 

“I know, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to make money for listening to people bitch.”

 

“You know it’s more complicated than that.”

 

“I know,” you sighed, mirroring his movements against his own skin with your fingertips. “Sometimes I just think it’s too much for you to do by yourself.” You felt his chest heave with a shallow laugh.

 

“Maybe, but at least it gets done to my standards.”

 

Which was true, and the only way he’d have it. “I guess. I still wish you had some help.”

 

He shook his head. “You worry too much.”

 

You chuffed. “And you don’t?”

 

Instead of answering he kissed you on top of your head and moved to sit up. “We should get out before you fall asleep and prune.”

 

You were given a towel, and after you told him what you wanted for dinner – something warm with preferably no meat – you brushed your teeth, dried off, and found something comfortable to sleep in. After he set an alarm, Seto pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and crawled in with you, and you happily snuggled up next to him.

 

“You don’t have to lay down with me if you’re not tired,” you said, pulling the comforter up to your nose.

 

He yawned and sighed into the pillow about your head. “I haven’t slept in three days.”

 

_Poor thing..._

You fell asleep without another thought.

 

* * *

 

If your stomach hadn’t protested so vulgarly you would’ve told him ‘fuck the alarm’ and gone back to sleep. But you hadn’t eaten in days, and even as he helped you off the bed you had to be careful of the nausea that crept along your digestive track. He helped you hobble down to the kitchen, where Mokuba was already waiting on a barstool.

 

Ms. Ihara came bustling out of the back through a service door. “Good Lord you both look awful, sit, _sit._ ” She pulled you each into a brief hug – something Seto didn’t complain about – before making sure you both got seated promptly. She went back through the door and emerged a second later with a large tray and three bowls of soup. Vegetable and dumplings in a beef broth.

 

It was hard not to try and drown yourself in it, or the chocolate milk she passed around. But you were able to pace yourself well enough to keep your stomach from protesting any further.

 

“Oh, we’ve all been so worried about you two, it’s been horrible around here. I hope you’re both all right.” She touched you each on the shoulder and smiled warmly before moving on to Seto. “And you,” she put a hand to his cheek and turned him to face her, “you’ve been running yourself _ragged_. You’ll take tomorrow off if you know what’s good for you.”

 

He stared at her flatly, his eyes tired and dark.

 

“Don’t give me that look. Man of this house or not you _know_ I’m right. If fussing over you gets me fired, well then so be it. But I won’t stand to watch you work yourself to death, I’d be out of a job either way.”

 

Seto watched her shuffle back to the kitchen before calling after her. “Haven’t I told you already that I’m keeping you indefinitely?”

 

She smiled over her shoulder, then disappeared.

 

The three of you ate in silence, Mokuba finishing within a few minutes, and you following close behind.

 

You pushed your bowl away from you and pillowed your head in your arms, leaning against Seto as he rubbed your back with his free hand. “I’m just so glad to be home,” you breathed, smiling as Mokuba slid his hands over yours.

 

“Me too,” he said, humming and laying his head against the counter.

 

Ms. Ihara came in quietly, took your empty bowls and glasses, and patted you each affectionately on the head. Then she disappeared back through the service door with a soft goodnight. You watched the door swing back and forth until it was still, then turned back to the boys on either side of you.

 

“I think it’s time for bed,” you said quietly, sliding off the barstool.

 

Mokuba gave his brother a look that you weren’t familiar with, but looked akin to a gentle coercion, though not quite persuasive. Seto still only looked tired, but his cheeks and ears reddened faintly beneath his tousled hair. He nodded once, then followed you upstairs to bed.

 

After Seto turned out the lights and joined you under the covers, the two of you had a quiet battle to be the bigger spoon as a promise that everything was okay. But eventually Seto won over and tucked you as close to his chest as he could, and fell asleep with his legs curled under your own.


	36. Chapter 36

You’d slept hard that night, and woke up sore around your back and shoulders and up your neck. When you opened your eyes Seto was still asleep beside you, clutching at the pillowcase under your hair with his arm draped across your chest. Carefully you ducked underneath him and slid out of bed, gritting your teeth as your muscles protested angrily. But you hadn’t woken him.

 

It took you twenty minutes to get down to the kitchen, make a pot of coffee, and get back up to the bedroom. But as you closed the door behind you, Seto was sitting up and watching you with half lidded eyes. You padded quietly over the carpet with a large mug in your hand, and handed it over with a lazy smile as you sat back on the bed.

 

He gingerly took the mug from you, his eyes downcast and worn, but whispered a gentle ‘thank you’ before he distracted himself with drinking it. After a moment he pulled the mug away and held it firmly in his lap, keeping his gaze low and guarded. “I promised you we’d talk,” he said.

 

He had. Months ago. And you had been very patient and made sure that you didn’t bother him about it or instigate the situation in any way. You nodded and crawled up next to him to rest your head against his shoulder. “But I think it’s too early in the morning.”

 

You felt him laugh, but he made no sound. “It’s almost eleven.”

 

“Too early.”

 

Seto didn’t argue with you, and he allowed the two of you to lay around for another half an hour or so, then coaxed you into taking a shower and putting on something comfortable but appropriate for an informal outing. He didn’t tell you why.

 

And you didn’t ask. Instead, you did as you were told and stole a few moments to visit Mokuba’s room, you hadn’t seen him since dinner the night before, and he seemed so very exhausted. When you knocked, there was no answer. Generally you didn’t open the door unless it was really important, he hated surprise visits, and you’d already embarrassed him plenty with your intrusions. But you needed to know that he was feeling all right.

 

Mokuba was asleep under a pile of blankets still, the blinds were drawn and everything was turned off, except for the ceiling fan, which whirred quietly. He didn’t seem to stir until you sat on the bed next to him, and he looked up at you with a weak little smile, grabbing for you to lay down with him. “Hi, Mom,” he said, his voice rough and sore sounding.

 

You petted his tangled black mane and let him cling to you loosely. “How’d you sleep?”

 

He mumbled something you couldn’t understand, but smiled when he nodded. Then he pulled back enough to ensure his speech was intelligible. “Where’s Seto?”

 

“Getting dressed. I think we’re going out today, you should come.”

 

Mokuba groaned. “He’s supposed to stay home, today. Ms. Ihara said so.”

 

You continued petting his hair. “She only told him not to go to work. You know how hard it is for him to stay inside all day. Besides, it’s supposed to start warming up this week.”

 

He shivered and nuzzled closer to you. “Can we watch a movie tonight, then? I’m tired.”

 

_Poor little munchkin._ “You’ll feel better once you get cleaned up and dressed. But I’ll see what I can do.” You kissed him on top of his head and gently removed yourself from him, promising him hot chocolate and brownies for the movie if he got up within the next ten minutes. As you walked down the hall, you heard him tumble out of his bed.

 

Back in the bedroom, Seto was pulling a neatly folded sweater vest out of the bottom drawer on his side of the closet. You stood a few steps away from the door, looking slightly over his shoulder. “I’ve never seen you in a sweater vest. Are you one of those rare few who can pull it off?”

 

He huffed, and compared it to the color of his button up dress shirt before standing and pulling it over his head. “Well, I could when I was maybe ten. But Mokuba’s never complained.”

 

Sure enough he looked far classier than dorky, and his dark brown hair was a lovely contrast to the light creams and beige tones of his dress. It was also a nice compliment to the pastel blue of your sundress. You vaguely noticed it was nearly the same color as his eyes. It made you smile.

 

As you turned to leave, wanting to make sure Mokuba was making ample progress in getting dressed, you noticed something sitting on the dresser you hadn’t seen before. You walked over and peered at the shiny thing, immediately hoping that it was not to have meant to be a secret. “What’s this?”

 

Seto looked up from his collection of ties, leaning back to see what you’d found. “It was my mother’s, I get it cleaned every year. I was hoping to take it to the jewelers after lunch.”

 

You looked back down at the glittering little ring nestled in what you assumed to be the original velvet box. The diamonds weren’t overly large and didn’t protrude as far as to get in the way of everything, even the larger one snug in the middle. Practical yet beautiful. You had never met Yuki Yagami – for obvious reasons – but somehow it seemed to describe her quite adequately.

 

As you opened your mouth to ask how he’d managed to keep hold of it for so long, your gut dropped and you promptly closed it again. You hadn’t ever met Gozaburo either, but you were willing to bet he’d used it at severe leverage, and you had no business bringing up such things. “I think that would be a good idea.”

 

Mokuba was dressed and ready to go, waiting at the bottom of the stairs while Seto walked down with you. He smiled giddily and spun you in a hug, telling you that you were, in fact, adorable and wore blue oh so well. He remained in high spirits all through lunch, which helped you to do the same. Seto otherwise remained stoic and mostly quiet, which reminded you very much of himself a year ago.

 

And things continued to go well until the three of you went into the jewelers. It wasn’t a big brand store, which you thought was odd. Instead, it was owned by a slightly older couple, the husband of which had been cutting stones his whole life, and his wife cleaning them just as long. You supposed in some situations things called for the love and care and attention of a mom and pop sort of place. However, your assumption flew out the window as soon as Mokuba threw himself inside and began calling out.

 

“Aunt Yuei, Uncle Giro!” He ducked under the counter and made for the curtains in the back, disappearing with a flourish.

 

You looked up at Seto, who had remained beside you. “I wasn’t aware you had relatives?”

 

He shook his head with a slight smile. “Not by blood. Mrs. Yuei is our former godmother’s sister.”

 

Former what now? “You had godparents?”

 

A short older woman with a neat gray bun and small oval glasses shuffled out of a side room. “A truly wretched bitch if I do say so myself, how are you dear?” She smiled and took Seto’s hand to pat it affectionately.

 

He smiled and inclined his head a little. “Stressed as usual.”

 

“Oh you always say that. And is this the lovely young lady Mokuba has told us so much about?” She turned to you and placed her steady hands on your shoulders. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, dear!”

 

You blushed profusely, and couldn’t help the smile that you felt in your cheeks. “Thank you,” you replied quietly.

 

“I hope these boys haven’t been giving you too much trouble. I imagine they’re both quite the handful,” she huffed, a little twinkle in her eye.

 

Your eyes flicked upwards just in time to see Seto turn his head away, something you’d learned to mean the slightest hint of shame. “Well,” you said, “I love them even on their bad days.”

 

She gave Seto a sly look with a half-smile. “And what did you do to deserve such a wonderful lady?”

 

He clenched his jaw and you could tell he was starting to feel guilty.

 

“Oh no,” you smiled at her. “I’m just as much of a handful.”

 

She eyed you both with grandmotherly skepticism before smiling very brightly and nodding. “So I assume you’re here for a good cleaning?”

 

The man you took to be Uncle Giro stepped out of the back, Mokuba closely in tow. “Would you stop pestering that poor boy? You’re going to embarrass him in front of his wife.”

 

You were quite sure that your face had turned white in the span of the few seconds it took for Seto to stammer out a retort and glare over at Mokuba.

 

Uncle Giro just looked back and forth between the two of you. “Well you best get a move on before she decides you’re taking too long.”

 

Mokuba sniggered behind him.

 

“Uncle Giro, I’m not – “

 

“It’s okay,” Yuei interjected, “It’s only been a few months, you really aren’t one to talk.”

 

“And I regret it every day,” the old man replied.

 

You stood quietly with a red face and wrung your hands over each other as slowly as you could manage. Embarrassment wouldn’t begin to cover the knot that had so immediately formed in the lowest pit of your stomach, and biting your tongue nearly hard enough to draw blood seemed to be the only thing keeping your eyes from ruining your mascara. For the few moments it took Seto to hand over his mother’s ring you couldn’t tell if you wanted to run out the door and get hit by a car or dissolve into the carpet and wallow in self-pity.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

You jumped at the sound of Mokuba’s voice, despite how quiet he’d kept it. “Yeah.”

 

He frowned at you, then at the ground, and very aggressively folded his hands under his arms and pressed his lips closed. It was subtle, but he was keeping something from you.

 

“Don’t worry dear, we’ll have it ready by the evening, there’s no need to stress over it,” Mrs. Yuei said, reaching across the counter to pat Seto’s hand. “Go on now and enjoy the rest of the day while it’s still nice out.”

 

You smiled as you left, waved meekly, and kept your mouth shut even as you got back into the car. Perhaps the sadistic part of you wanted to have some sort of conversation, but the rational part was praying that nobody would say anything. Surely you don’t remember feeling this bent out of shape about the whole thing at the convention. He was just a little kid voicing his innocence, but these people _knew_ Seto, at least marginally...

 

“I’m sorry about that.”

 

You wedged your hands between your thighs to keep them still and looked over. “It’s all right, he was only teasing.”

 

Seto pulled out onto the narrow street and sighed, shaking his head. “If you believed that you wouldn’t have gotten so worked up about it.”

 

That caught you way off guard, and stuttering out a response was something he didn’t give you time for.

 

“Don’t think that I don’t notice. I do, and that’s why I’m apologizing, because he didn’t. But I know he means well, they both do.” His eyes were on the road, but you could tell his attention was on you. “And yes, we did have godparents. They were abusive, neglectful, and used Mokuba and I for our inheritance money.”

 

Mokuba poked his head in from the back seat. “If it hadn’t been for aunt Yuei and uncle Giro we probably would’ve run away.”

 

“And gotten into more trouble,” Seto added, ruffling his brother’s hair and pushing him gently back into his seat. “The point it, there are certain things I’ve taken steps to keep away from you until I decide that they need to be shared. And I’d rather you not find out by accident.”

 

That was something you could appreciate and respect, because it really wasn’t any of your business... was it? Would it be any more or less your business had the two of you never gotten together? Or if you got married?

 

_If_ you got married. _If_ this entire relationship hadn’t been doomed to fail from the beginning. _If_ Seto Kaiba saw legitimate and long-term potential in you. _If_ you ever got answers to all of those ifs.

 

“I understand,” you replied quietly, smiling.

 

For the rest of the drive Mokuba entertained you with stories about the fun things their aunt and uncle did with them. Most of the time those stories centered around the playground and the arcade, but listening to Mokuba become enthusiastic was entertainment all on its own.

 

“I guess that’s one of the reasons we like video games so much, they were always happy memories,” he concluded, smiling at you and then frowning out your window. “What are we doing here, Seto?”

 

You turned around and looked at the humble little game shop, noting how unfamiliar you were with your surroundings. “I don’t recognize this place, have we been here before?”

 

Seto shook his head. “No, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

 

“Oh,” you breathed, gathering the sparse amount of extra material in your skirt, and stepped out into the sun. You smoothed the fabric and made your posture presentable before following the two up to the door and into the little shop.

 

It was small, statistically speaking, but the space had been used to its absolute maximum potential. You had never seen so many cards, figures, or games packed so neatly and all in one place. It was as if the entire store was an excessively neat game of I-Spy, and you simply did not have the attention span to take it all in.

 

“Kaiba? Is that you? Well I’ll be damned!”

 

There was an older man leaning against the counter wearing a faded bandanna and a wide, furry smile.

 

“You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you. And oh my goodness, is this Mokuba? He’s grown like a weed! ... And looks like one too,” he laughed, matching the younger brother’s broad grin.

 

Seto held out a hand and gestured at him. “This is Yugi’s grandfather, Mr. Solomon Muto.”


	37. Chapter 37

You smiled politely and shook his warm hand, which completely encompassed your own. “It’s nice to meet you,” you offered, bowing your head ever so slightly.

 

He laughed heartily, with one hand on his stomach. “You know, to tell you the truth, I didn’t believe Yugi when he told me who you were. It honestly seemed too good to be true.” Mr. Muto looked slightly over your shoulder at Seto. “Imagine, Kaiba grown up and acting like a real adult, ha!”

 

Seto rolled his eyes, but the smile was a telltale sign he was comfortable here, and you took it to mean you couldn’t be in better company.

 

You smiled back and put your free hand on your hip. “Well now I wish I’d been around sooner, he doesn’t tell me anything.”

 

Mr. Muto looked at you with surprise first, then back to Seto. “You haven’t told her about Battle City?”

 

“No,” Seto replied. “I haven’t, and if I get my way then she’ll _never_ know.”

 

The old man grunted. “And doesn’t Kaiba always get his way?”

 

“Did I ever beat Yugi?”

 

Solomon Muto nearly laughed himself to tears. “No no, I suppose not. But no one could say you never tried. I assume you’re here to see him?”

 

“I’d like to, if he’s home. But there’s something I’d like to talk to you about personally,” Seto answered, and you saw his eyes immediately shift to the ground when he’d finished talking.

 

Mr. Muto shuffled out from behind the counter and pulled open the door on the back wall, calling up the staircase. “Yugi! Someone’s here to duel you!”

 

You barely heard Seto’s groan from over Mokuba’s raspy laughter.

 

You’d remembered Yugi being a little rail of kid, but his footsteps were loud and thunderous when he came down the stairs.

 

His hair was in just as much disarray even with the back half in an unruly ponytail. And it looked just as mismatched as his white socks did against his all black attire. “Oh come _on_ Kaiba, haven’t you figured out you that you just can’t win?”

 

Seto huffed. “Your grandfather is making fun of me. Besides, I’ve accepted that the tile fits you far better than it ever would me.”

 

Yugi grinned with all of his teeth and jabbed both thumbs in his own general direction. “King of Games, bitch~”

 

The other rolled his eyes. “You should put that on a shirt.”

 

“Don’t tempt me. So what do I owe the pleasure? You need my help? Is there another epic adventure awaiting us in some far off dimension? Are you _finally_ asking me out on a date?” He smiled the whole time, and didn’t quite seem to notice your presence, or your reaction to that last bit.

 

“No,” Seto replied firmly. “I would appreciate if _that_ was kept out of conversation and if you would offer a distraction. I’d like to speak with your grandfather. In private.”

 

Yugi lowered his hands and looked at you, then smiled all over again. “Oh, hey! I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you were here.”

 

You shook your head with a smile to match his own. “That’s okay.”

 

His smile turned sheepish, but he offered you his hand and nodded in the direction of the stairs. “How about I show you around upstairs? We just finished turning the storage room into a gaming den.”

 

Seto handed you off and said he’d be upstairs when he was done, so you obediently followed Yugi to the upper levels of the house. You didn’t do much but peek inside his bedroom, which was tidier than you expected it to be, as he was far more excited to show off the game den. And admittedly, it wasn’t any wonder why.

 

The left half had been set up with a TV, Kaiba Corp.’s newest console (along with the previous two), a towering stack of games, two oversized beanbag chairs, and a low table. The right half boasted more stuff – display cases for more figures and perhaps hundreds, if not thousands, of cards – with a large table and four chairs set against the back wall. There was also a long cabinet under the window with board games lining the shelves in a Tetris like fashion.

 

“Wow,” you drawled, stepping almost delicately into the room. “So, is this a ‘game night with bros’ kind of room, or more of a competitive space?”

 

Yugi walked over to the cabinet under the window and pulled out a Capsule Monsters box to begin setting up. “Mostly game nights with friends, I don’t really duel competitively very often. Unless there’s a big tourney with a lot of famous names, which a lot of people expect me to show up at. They’re still fun most of the time.” He pulled a chair out for you to sit down. “Have you played CapMon?”

 

You winced. “Kind of, but Mokuba kicked my ass all over the place, so I’m not very good.”

 

He smirked and started handing out pieces. “That’s all right, it’s not my forte either, but it doesn’t take as many brain cells to play.”

 

“That’s probably true, I’m not proficient enough in Duel Monsters to come up with legitimate strategies.” You set up your side of the board while the conversation stagnated.

 

Finally, Yugi looked back up. “You know... I really hate to sound... intrusive. And it’s not technically any of my business, but... do you two really get along that well?”

 

You set the last piece on the board and hummed quietly to yourself. “Apparently we get along a lot better than most people think we do, and I guess on the outside, it would be surprising.”

 

Yugi bit his lip and looked down. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have asked.”

 

With a small laugh you shook your head. “No, don’t be. If I were you I’d probably be asking the same thing.”

 

He nodded, a sigh escaping through his nose. “It’s just that, it seemed to come so far out of left field. Kaiba just doesn’t like people, and socializing has never been something he’s ever really gotten the hang of. I guess what I mean is, I’m curious as to why he likes you so much.” By the time he’d finished his turn was over.

 

It was an honest question, and you didn’t blame him for asking nor did you feel uncomfortable for being asked. You only felt guilty because you knew you couldn’t answer that. “Truthfully, that’s something I ask myself every single day.” He waited until you took your turn to speak, but you pretended to be indecisive to stall for a few extra seconds. When you looked up, his face was entirely stricken with heartbroken surprise.

 

“I’m so sorry, this is an awful thing to talk about. I promise I didn’t mean to upset you, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything...” He took his turn quickly and let both of his hands fall into his lap.

 

But you couldn’t help but smile. “You honestly haven’t offended me, I promise. And it’s not something I’m too bent out of shape about. I understand that he has a hard time talking about his feelings, and I want to make sure he knows that that’s okay. I just trust that he’s with me because he wants to be, and if that’s all I ever know then I think I’ll be okay with that,” you said, glad that your smile had been infectious.

 

“Well whatever his reason is, I know it’s a good one.”

 

The two of you played casually for perhaps twenty minutes, with idle conversation and slow, thoughtful moves. You decided that you very much liked Yugi’s company, and his friendship with Téa started to make a lot more sense, and gave you something else to talk about.

 

“It’s no wonder you and Téa get along so well, you’re nosey about all the same things. I’m surprised you’re not dating~” you teased, positively enthralled with how red his cheeks could get.

 

He scowled at the board, but the smile never completely went away. “I don’t know,” he said. “It just never happened, you know? I don’t think either one of us is confident enough that we like each other, so we never really talked about it.”

 

“Well I think that’s ridiculous,” you replied, pondering between which monster to move. “Just like this game. This game is ridiculous.”

 

There was a shocked gasp that came from right behind you. “I am personally offended, how dare you.” Mokuba had both hands over his heart and looked at you with calculated judgement.

 

You rolled your eyes at him while Yugi, who had apparently been holding out on you the entire time, took his last turn and ended the game. With a groan, you took your defeat gracefully.

 

“So what are you guys talking about?” Mokuba pulled up a third chair and sat down, offering to play Yugi the next game.

 

“We were talking about how Yugi needs to hook up with Téa because apparently it’s obvious to everyone but themselves,” you said, showing your teeth playfully when Yugi hid his face in his hands.

 

Mokuba looked absolutely disgusted. “Oh not _this_ again. You two still haven’t even seen each other naked? I thought that happened like, right after you got back from Egypt.”

 

Yugi let his head fall against the table and whined for Mokuba to stop.

 

“Aww,” you cooed. “The King of Games is still a precious little cinnamon roll, too pure for this world.”

 

“Yugi is a _what_?”

 

You turned around and saw Seto standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets and Solomon Muto at his side. Yugi’s grandfather had a look of knowing written all over his face, and laughed as soon as Mokuba filled in his brother with ‘Yugi needs to get laid.’

 

Seto threw his head back to look at the ceiling with impatience. “Next time I see her I’m going to say something and you can’t stop me.”

 

“No, God no, please do not say anything,” Yugi pleaded, his hands gripping the table. “Kaiba I’m serious.”

 

“So am I. What are we playing?”

 

It was the first time you’d seen Seto openly loosen up in the presence of friends and good company. And it was such a nice change to watch him tease and make jokes, and smile without seeming to feel like he had to impress someone. He was being genuine and it filled you with complete awe that someone could deal with the stress that was his job and still be able to let it go when it was truly important. It was something new you fell in love with.

 

There was a knock on the front door downstairs as the sun started to set and talk of dinner plans had just started going around. Solomon Muto excused himself from the room and returned not a minute later with Téa in tow.

 

Mokuba leaned back too look at her upside down. “Hey, Téa, wanna play?”

 

And then you had a genius idea. “Actually, why don’t we all go out for dinner?”

 

Téa smiled and held up her hands. “Oh no, that’s okay. I’m just here to drop off Yugi’s textbook. I wasn’t going to stay long anyways.”

 

Seto looked up and over his shoulder. “You should come, I enjoy your company.”

 

Somehow Téa did not have the wherewithal to argue with him, but you could reason that most people would not. It had sounded slightly more like a stated fact than an invitation, and it was clear to you that Téa had nothing to say to change his mind.

 

A decision was made to go somewhere casual during the process of cleaning up the den, as Seto seemed to understand that no one was really dressed for anything else. And somehow, after some serious persuasion, Seto convinced Yugi’s grandfather to tag along, even though business hours weren’t quite over. Perhaps it was a businessman-to-businessman thing, or there was a real understanding that Seto Kaiba very much wanted to have company and was making a legitimate attempt to show others that he genuinely cared.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting down to the wire here, I hope everyone enjoys~

The dinner venue might have been a little on the nicer side as far as sushi and hibachi places go, but you had to give him props. He really did try. And your level of casual was still at least acceptable.

 

There was a small amount of guilt you still felt, however, that even though what you were wearing was technically a sundress, it was at least half as much as Seto’s suit jacket alone. You felt like you were a little bit in limbo, and it wasn’t something you consciously dealt with often. Were you still technically wearing something casual? Or because of its expense did that throw you into the category of ‘overdressed’? And was it really that big of a deal?

 

“We’ve got about twenty minutes, did you want something to drink?”

 

Maybe you were PMSing, and that meant you did _not_ need to be drinking. “No thanks.”

 

You watched Seto walk away with Mr. Muto, and for a moment you wondered why they got along so well.

 

Yugi laughed a little. “Well, Kaiba’s been around for a while, really. Grandpa has a lot of respect for him, and since Kaiba’s grown up so much, I guess now they’ve got something to talk about.”

 

You felt a little flustered. “Did I wonder that out loud?”

 

Mokuba snickered and put a hand on your shoulder. “Well now I know why you didn’t get a drink.”

 

 _You little brat._ “Why don’t you go ahead and call Ms. Ihara and tell her we won’t be home for supper.” Perhaps your smile felt a little forced, but he seemed to get the picture.

 

When Mokuba stepped outside you turned to the other two, and began to set your plan into motion. “So, how long have you two known each other?”

 

Yugi looked like he knew exactly what you were doing, and frowned quite subtly with his hands crossed firmly over his chest. Téa, on the other hand, immediately went off on what could only be a longwinded anecdote full of too many details. But if you could grin and bear it there might be something useful in between her psychological analogies about friendship. If you listened hard enough.

 

You nodded, agreed, and prompted for further information when necessary, but you figured Yugi was well aware of the fact that you were only fishing. Well, you got the main points of the story, about school and Yugi’s early dueling career, but the rest of it washed over you entirely. However, your interest piqued as soon as she mentioned ‘Oh yeah, and then there’s Battle City, which –‘

 

“Stop right there, Gardner. That’s far enough, thank you.” Seto rejoined the group with a small glass of rum and coke, and a scowl subtle enough to make Téa stop talking and question whether or not it was really there.

 

“Dammit,” you hissed, turning on him irritably. “I’m gonna find out one day, this is pointless.”

 

He shook his head and looked over yours, where there was nothing but wall and decorative iron cutouts of cherry blossom stems. The buzzer in Mokuba’s pocket went off before you could complain any further.

 

The six of you were lead to a table in the back, where there was a bit more privacy, only because you were the largest party in the restaurant. It wasn’t quite loud, but there was still plenty of people to be sat, and it was really only a matter of time before fate sat the most obnoxious group next to yours.

 

Drinks were passed out quickly, and everyone was given an extra glass of water. You didn’t participate in the drinking of alcohol, memories of Florida were still plenty enough to keep you away. But Yugi and Téa both got drinks, and Seto seemed to have the same idea.

 

“Wow Yugi, I didn’t know you drank,” he pointed out, smirking slightly around the rim of his glass.

 

Yugi met his gaze, but otherwise seemed unfazed. “Only on special occasions.”

 

You chimed in. “Oh? What’s the special occasion?” Since Téa wasn’t looking you flicked your eyes in her direction.

 

The King of Games obviously didn’t like the game you were playing, but still effortlessly took it with eloquence. “It’s not very often I get to spend time with my _friends_.”

 

 _That’s fine_ , you thought, _I can play dirty, too_. “That must mean you have quite the busy love life, yes?”

 

Solomon Muto barked out a laugh as harsh as the whisky he was drinking. “If only _that_ were true! I keep telling him about all the ways I want to spoil my great grandkids, but I just don’t think he gets the hint.”

 

Yugi groaned. “Grandpa, how many times do we have to –?”

 

“Apparently until you get the hint, my boy,” the old man responded, patting Yugi affectionately on the back. “We’re only teasing, you know.”

 

He huffed. “I hope so, I came here to eat, not to get picked on.”

 

Meanwhile, Téa had said absolutely nothing, and was probably hoping to – and perhaps thinking she had achieved – fly under the radar. But rather than pester her yourself and risk cluing her in, you allowed Seto to pick up the hint and make an effort on his own part.

 

“So, are you still studying at the university?” His glance wasn’t direct, but he made sure she knew he was talking to her.

 

Téa looked up from her glass of water and set it down quickly. “Oh, uh, yes. Actually, um, I should be graduating next spring.”

 

Seto nodded in approval before continuing on. “What happens after college? I thought you wanted to go to New York.”

 

Her face lit up and you could see the internal struggle to control her own excitement. “It’s funny you mention that, because I’ve been invited to take a summer intensive program at the RIOULT Dance company in New York. Maybe they’ll like me enough to keep me,” she said, twirling the straw in her glass. “Although, I’ll miss my pole dancing classes...”

 

You were the only one who didn’t spit their drink. Seto barely caught himself.

 

Yugi blinked about five or seven times as he came to terms with what she said.

 

Mr. Muto wasn’t as subtle. “You’re a stripper?”

 

“Grandpa!”

 

“What?”

 

Téa looked as if she might catch on fire. “No! I am _not_ a stripper! I dance art style, it’s very different.”

 

You, on the other hand, were enthralled. “What’s the technical difference?”

 

“Well,” she began. “Most people think of how strippers dance, but the art style is more acrobatic, and not really supposed to be sexy. It’s like modern or ballet, but on a pole.”

 

You could have sworn Yugi sighed with relief. But when you replied with ‘that’s really neat,’ her answer had him flustered all over again.

 

“Yeah, you should come by the studio sometime.” And before you could answer, she decided to throw you into the same pit of discomfort. “Just bring some dance clothes and I could show you a few things.”

 

_Nope. Nope. Nu-uh. Not happening._

 

“When and where.”

 

Your head whipped around to stare at your traitor of a boyfriend in utter disbelief. And the worst part was the fact that you could tell he wasn’t joking. He was accepting her offer, _for you_.

 

But that was fine. “Yeah, it’d be fun. Can you teach guys, too?”

 

He tensed very quickly. “I don’t think that’s –“

 

“Oh sure,” Téa offered, getting more at Seto’s embarrassment than at Yugi’s, which was a shame. But she wasn’t totally oblivious as far as people go, she’d catch on eventually.

 

Dinner was just round after round of teasing, provoking, and turning innocent questions into the dirtiest of comments. The only thing that irritated you was the fact that Mokuba was on his phone almost the entire time, and never really got engaged in the conversation. Of course, you wouldn’t call him out on it in front of everyone, if that had needed to have been done Seto would’ve taken care of it. But if he wasn’t going to act bothered, then neither would you.

 

No one had much room left for dessert, including Mokuba, but a final round of wine was brought after all of the plates were taken away. The wine also came with the check, which very quickly turned into a little bit of a kerfuffle.

 

Mr. Muto, as lead instigator of the night, huffed as soon as he saw the waitress start to hand it to Seto. “Hey wait a minute, what are you doing?”

 

The accused looked up as he pulled a pen from his pocket. “Paying the bill.”

 

The old man puffed out his moustache. “Oh no you don’t, give me that!”

 

Seto was very much unimpressed. “No.” He kept his eyes level with Solomon Muto as he signed his name and slipped the check back to the waitress, smiling at the small victory. But before the woman had a chance to leave, he asked, in a much quieter voice, “Do you take tips?”

 

She glanced quickly behind her before nodded. “No, sir.”

 

He looked as if he expected her response, and was already pulling something else from his pocket. “Then don’t tell anyone I gave this to you.”

 

The woman went rigid, but took the offer and bowed, tucking the extra money under her dress before quickly walking away with his card.

 

Yugi was scowling with disapproval. “Kaiba, that’s rude and you know it.”

 

Seto grunted. “Look at the other table she’s been waiting on.”

 

On the other end of the narrow room was a table full of women with presumably their dates – which were getting no attention as all of the women had been staring either at you or your boyfriend all night.

 

He continued. “She’s not getting paid to deal with their bullshit, which she shouldn’t have to deal with period.”

 

It was the only reason he ever offered to tip at restaurants, because otherwise, it was _extremely_ rude. But him being around generally created some extra unnecessary commotion that was never intentional, and the staff had to deal with it as much as you or he did, so he felt socially obligated to compensate those caught in the crossfire. Also, it was the only way for him to show his appreciation when female waitresses didn’t make serving him into a big deal, which had happened plenty of times.

 

While Yugi didn’t seem to like it, he accepted it enough to drop the subject.

 

The wine was finished just in time to leave at sundown, though it was dark when everyone arrived back at the game shop. During ‘goodbye’s you overheard Téa accepting the offer to spend the night, so you considered your plan to be successful at least in that regard.

 

Once everyone was back inside the three of you headed home in silence. Mokuba had fallen asleep in the backseat and neither you nor Seto wanted to really risk waking him up, so the two of you kept to yourselves – aside from holding hands – until you got home.

 

Mokuba immediately went to tackle the stairs with a mumble of ‘goodnight’, probably, and left you alone in the kitchen with Seto.

 

You watched him hang his keys by the door, then pop his head into the back of the kitchen through the service door. If he had any semblance of a conversation you couldn’t hear it, but was giving you instructions before you could even ask.

 

“Go upstairs and change,” was what his mouth said, but you noticed very quickly that his eyes were asking for something specific.

 

With a smile you nodded and quietly padded across the wood floors of the hallway and up the stairs. Bracing yourself for the lights, you flipped the switch and discarded your clothes on the way to the closet without leaving a trail. It wasn’t cold, so you found a cute pair of shorts with blue polka dots and little white frills. And you almost decided on wearing a tank top, but then figured it wouldn’t quite meet his expectations. No no, this required cunning and critical problem-solving.

 

There was a nice cotton dress shirt he had at least four of stashed in the back that would do quite nicely. Not overly dressy, thin enough to keep you cool, and adorable by default. If there was one important thing you learned, it was that Seto Kaiba had a thing for you wearing his dress shirts and acting like you had no idea.

 

Two buttons were plenty enough. You kept your bra.

 

And met him back downstairs in the private living room. The fireplace wasn’t on, so you were sure he was going to take you somewhere else, as soon as he stopped staring at you. Though, you really didn’t mind, it always made you smile inside when he looked at you and his ears turned pink.

 

He said nothing as he took your hand and led you through the backmost hallways of the mansion, which was where his original office had been located and why all of his certificates, awards, etc. were hanging on those walls instead of elsewhere. The hall ended at a large pair of sliding glass doors, which opened up onto the back porch.

 

A tea table and a pair of cushions had been laid out under the tiny chandelier and the rock wall against the side of the house had water trickling into the shallow pool set into the floor. Typically, this space wasn’t much used, you knew that for a fact, but it really didn’t feel that way after it’d been tended to and brought back to life. You had Ms. Ihara to thank for that.

 

The two of you sat down across from each other and Seto spared not time in voicing his intentions.

 

“I think it’s time we talked.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not long, but it's important. Only one chapter left.

For a moment you really wanted to protest, to tell him to wait until tomorrow, or forget about it entirely. The whole thing seemed so long ago, and because you weren’t caught up in the moment, still seething over his poor behavior, you didn’t want to bring it back up again. However, the look he gave you said he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So instead of arguing, you quietly allowed him to set your cups and pour your tea.

 

Seto Kaiba was not a very traditional person by nature, aside from fiercely sticking to the customs of etiquette concerning those he cared about. But otherwise, he wasn’t big on proper Japanese traditions, and as a result, tea was just tea, and not some extravagant ceremony that perhaps you would have experienced with his “aunt and uncle.”

 

He poured you a cup of tea and simply began to talk.

 

“Before I start apologizing for the wrong thing, I want to make sure this still has everything to do with how I treated you a few months back.”

 

You met his eyes for maybe a second before the entire thing came rushing back to you like an unpredictable tsunami, and as your eyes welled you bit your lip to keep quiet and nodded. Guilt started to settle in quickly, you hadn’t meant to react so soon or so severely.

 

“I thought so. And I suppose I’ll go ahead and say that that particular coping mechanism wasn’t excusable for the damage it did at the time... and might still be doing.” His voice was soft and low, deep and full of rich sound. Like when he would sometimes talk you to sleep.

 

You were almost too distracted to reply, but still thought over your answer. “Not really anymore. I’m not worried about the same things I was at the time, so it doesn’t bother me in the same way.”

 

He seemed to consider your words for a moment, debating on whether or not to address something else. “Then tell me the difference.”

 

A shiver ran along your spine, and you pulled the cuffs of his shirt over your hands. “Back then I was afraid you didn’t care. But now, since I know you do, I’m more upset because I don’t know what happened.”

 

Seto nodded and took a sip of his tea, his eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed. “I figure you understand, by now, that I don’t deal with certain things very well. And while there’s good reason for it, it doesn’t excuse my behavior,” he said, tracing small circles around his teacup. “The reason I don’t deal with emotions is because I learned at an early age that the best way, at the time, for me to keep them in control was to distance myself from whatever was making feel those things.”

 

That explained a lot of behavioral habits, but wasn’t exactly surprising, so you let him continue without commenting.

 

“I know Mokuba told you what happened on my birthday, after you left my office. I asked you to leave because I physically needed to be away from you, otherwise I would’ve been just as anxious about you watching as I was becoming emotional.” For a moment he paused, and he looked almost ashamed to finish his thought. “I want you to know that I can’t express how appreciative I am of the way you help Mokuba when he has a breakdown. But I also want you to know that I may very well need the same thing, because it’ll still be a long time before I’m not prone to relapsing.”

 

Something you kept yourself from thinking about was how Gozaburo had treated Seto in particular, mainly because you didn’t know much about that and didn’t want your mind to come up with things that weren’t true. But somehow you never really imagined that, given the time that’s passed, he might also still suffer anxiety attacks. And it hurt more than it might have otherwise only because he put on such a convincing front.

 

“To be honest, knowing that there was a possibility of you having to watch me go through that scared me. I don’t always have a high opinion of myself, and I might act like the opinion of others doesn’t matter to me, but it does. It matters a lot, and the only way I knew to deal with it was to put up a wall and shut you out.” As he talked his voice steadily grew softer, but once or twice you heard it catch.

 

Your own throat knotted a little, but a few sips of tea allowed you to speak without your voice cracking. “That makes sense, and I understand enough to better see how hard you’ve tried. I’m glad you still try. But I want to know why it meant so much.”

 

He almost smiled. “Because I felt that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

 

It was hard not to look surprised at first, but after you began to think about it, things started to settle into place. “Why allow yourself to get any closer if you’re sure it’s doomed to fail. It would’ve given me a solid reason to leave, is that right?”

 

Seto frowned into his nearly empty cup. “The sooner the better. I had already felt guilty that I’d strung you along for as long as I did, I wanted you to be the one to make the decision. But that doesn’t make me a coward.”

 

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “It doesn’t. But you thinking like that was really shitty.”

 

“Yeah, it was. Which is why we’re having this conversation.”

 

While he refilled both cups you took a moment to figure out what you ultimately wanted to get out of this conversation. And that was, what does Seto want out of this conversation. He’s already apologized, and then kept talking, so there’s more to it, but you needed to be careful about prodding. Asking the wrong questions while he’s vulnerable makes him clam up, and that’s not what either of you needed right now. Perhaps you could do something to lighten the burden a little.

 

“I’m sorry that I ever believed you’d stop protecting me.” You’d been so scared in the moment, but in retrospect, telling him that you’d believed he wouldn’t be there when you needed him probably did a lot more damage than you’d realized.

 

Slowly, he shook his head. “No, don’t be. I gave you plenty of reason to believe that, and that’s no one’s fault but my own.”

 

He was right, of course, so you couldn’t argue with him. “I do trust you, though. Maybe more than most people think I ought to, but they don’t really know you as well as they think they do.”

 

Finally, he did smile. It was small, but warm and lingering. “Not very many people will ever know me as well as you do, and I’ve grown comfortable with that. Actually, that’s something else I wanted to talk about.”

 

As you nestled the warm cup between the sleeves and your fingers, you looked up with an encouraging smile. He looked nervous, but you refrained from physically reaching out to him.

 

“I don’t know that I show my gratitude as aptly as I should, you really do deserve more to know how important you are to me. And while I intend to continue to try, and believe that actions speak loudest... I also think there’s power in words.” He set his cup down very slowly and took a long, deep breath.

 

You felt as though you were waiting a little too intently.

 

“I know that I’ve made it very clear that I don’t ever use these words lightly but...” He closed his eyes for a long few seconds before looking up and at you directly. “I do love you.”

 

It was almost as if you wanted to reject what he said, and that your lungs were devoid of air for the sole purpose of keeping you utterly silent. But there simply wasn’t any way for you to deny his words, or to possibly grasp the depth of their meaning. And for a long moment you just didn’t know what to do with yourself.

 

After a while you came to accept that he’d never said those words either because the use of them made him uncomfortable or he simply wouldn’t ever mean them. So you’d spent no time in walking yourself through the process of dealing with that particular confession, you’d been so sure it’d never come.

 

However, since it had, and you were beyond ill prepared, you did nothing but sit and stare. Your fingers might have tightened around your cup, your legs might have started to shake, and there might have been tears in your eyes, but you did not otherwise react.

 

But the moment he so much as began to look ashamed for opening up, you gave him your most genuine smile. It wasn’t big, but it was honest, and your eyes mimicked the gesture. “I love you too,” you replied quietly, setting the small cup back on the table.

 

Seto laid his hands in the middle, palms up, and quietly asked for your own with his fingertips. When you rested your hands in his, noting the differences, he brushed softly against the inside of your wrists and hummed almost too quietly for you to hear.

 

A short moment passed by and a shallow breeze blew over the patio before he spoke again. “I think it’s time for bed.” He let you rest your hands in his for another moment before rising and gently bringing you with him.

 

The two of you walked quietly beside each other back into the house with your hands intertwined loosely. Most of the lights had been turned off, so you followed closely in Seto’s footsteps and watched your shadows change. When you reached the stairs he pulled your feet out from underneath you and carried you slowly up to the bedroom.

 

He let you sleep in the cotton dress shirt, warm as it was, but dressed himself down before getting into bed with you. There wasn’t much talking, as there wasn’t much left to say, but it was a good long while before either of you fell asleep. Seto played with your hair and traced little circles on your back, and you ran your fingers up and down and his sides and stomach in between soft giggles.

 

Once or twice you made him shiver as your fingers either were just a hair too gentle or ventured a little lower than intended. But eventually his breathing shallowed out and he was asleep, one arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand tangled with yours.

 

Rarely had you ever gotten the chance to watch him sleep, but those were some of your favorite moments. It was one of the few times he was truly relaxed and at peace. And you nestled closely against him and drifted off, finally finding your own.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, the end of the semester is looming over my head and I really didn't want this chapter to turn out this way. But I'm realizing that I'm not going to change it, so I might as well just give it to you. Hopefully it's as surprising as I wanted it to be!

About three weeks went by, smoother than any other length time the two of you had been together. The weight that had lifted from his shoulders was so visible, aside from the stresses of his job, and you were just glad that he had one less thing to worry about. Well, that’s what you figured anyway, he was always worrying about something whenever you took him coffee.

 

Which, he had asked you to stop doing. And not in the ‘I don’t have time,’ or ‘I don’t want you walking in on meetings,’ or ‘You have others things to get done at work and you always end up staying for too long regardless’ kind of way. There was an odd nervousness to the request that you were sure he’d thought he’d hidden, but you decided to humor him.

 

And so, for nearly three weeks, he came in of his own accord, never at the same time, but always twice a day, to get his own coffee. He still loitered for a few extra unnecessary minutes, never quite as long as you had, but tried desperately to make small talk. It was like he wanted to get to some specific topic, to tell you something maybe, but he never really got there. Awkward wasn’t exactly correct, but the conversation wasn’t quite smooth either, and as cute as you thought it was, you had to wonder.

 

So far Mokuba had been so incredibly tight lipped about it – as he wasn’t very good at hiding that he knew something – but that didn’t stop you from trying. Because you also noted that he now accompanied his brother to your café on every single visit, but stayed very meticulously off to the side. He’d greet you and say goodbye, but otherwise he wouldn’t intervene in the strange ritual. Which was odd only because Mokuba was never a passive audience.

 

There were other details you tried to pick out on the day to day visits, anything that might help you figure out what the hell was going on. Outright asking was not going to work, but the whole thing seemed too innocent for you to legitimately be bothered. So you made mental notes and discussed them with Tina.

 

Some days Seto wore a suit, he was more visibly edgy on those days, but other days he wore the trademark turtleneck and that godawful white trench coat that had somehow grown on you. When he wore his coat his visits were noticeably shorter, and when he wore his suit Mokuba seemed to look on with extra interest. And while you and Tina had made distinctions, it did nothing to guide you to any kind of solution. It just further obscured the situation to you.

 

Which, by itself, was fine. You’d find out eventually, there was no question about that, it was the one thing Mokuba had been able to tell you. That sooner or later the entire thing would make enough sense that you’d be able to pick apart the entire thing down to even the tiniest details you’d noted to yourself. And thus, you’d continue to play along and speculate during the slower hours of the day.

 

Although, about a week in, when you’d made most of your observations, Roland paid you a rare visit.

 

“Good afternoon, my lady!” he said, smiling and winking through his shades.

 

You looked up from the platter of cookies you were helping Tina frost. “Hey, Roland, what brings you here?”

 

He made a spectacle of looking over the chalkboard menu, commenting on the “impressive array of teas” before asking for a mug to go. His skill at small talk put Seto to literal shame, and that gave you an idea.

 

As you handed over his cup you tapped at the counter. “Uh, before you go, I have a question.”

 

“Perhaps I have an answer.”

 

 _Cheeky_. “Do you know what’s going on? Because I imagine you do, and I was hoping I could get something a little more concrete out of you.” You smiled, but tried not to make it look like a plea.

 

He thought for a second, then jumped in surprise. “Oh! Speaking of which, I was hoping you could find the time to take these up to his office. He has me running other errands at the moment and I have an appointment to meet.” Roland removed the manila envelope from underneath his arm and slid it across the counter.

 

“What is it?” Probably something that would make little sense to you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

 

“Well,” he said, “I think most of them are patent corrections from his attorney. There might be the odd bit of mail in there, I’m not sure. It’s sealed for confidentiality of course.”

 

You sighed. “Of course. I’ll take it right over.”

 

He left with a flourishing goodbye, and you watched him drive off before removing your apron and finding your keycard. As a last thought you took a cup of coffee, Seto hadn’t come in yet and you’d rather save him a trip across the street in case he was busy.

 

The traffic wasn’t bad and there were no loitering women, which was perhaps due to the chill that was still hanging around. The ground floor was also fairly empty, it wasn’t quite time for lunch breaks yet. However, you did see a familiar group of men and women all dressed in lab coats and sterile gloves. Some of them were packing hefty briefcases and they seemed to be bickering to each other. They were also by the same elevator, the only one you’d never used.

 

It went to the basement, and you’d been warned that that section of Kaiba Corp. was explicitly off limits to you. After the first time, you never asked about it again.

 

The guard by Seto’s personal elevator didn’t give you any lip, and as you swiped your keycard you vaguely wondered if you’d be intruding on something. It was a wonder you hadn’t thus far walked in on some private meeting or appointment or anything, and it was bound to happen. Maybe you should have waited? He was probably expecting the envelope though, and he wouldn’t have minded Roland walking in on anything.

 

The door opened and, aside from himself, Seto’s office was empty. He turned and looked down at the envelope.

 

“Roland?”

 

You set it on his desk. “Yeah, he said it was probably from your patent attorney. But this is from me.”

 

He hesitated before taking the coffee but didn’t smile, then set it next to his laptop and away from the pile of documents strewn across the expanse of his desk. “Thanks.”

 

As you turned to leave, Mokuba came through the office door. As soon as he saw the cup of coffee he huffed. “I told you to wait for me.”

 

Seto rolled his eyes and took up his pen. “She brought it with her. Did they say when the funding would go through?”

 

Mokuba opened his mouth, but looked at you with caution. “Uh, maybe another week? They just kept telling me how slow of a process the whole thing is.”

 

“I already know that.”

 

“I know, I told them. Are they gonna be overnight again?”

 

You looked between the two, waiting for someone to clue you in. Seto never looked up from his desk.

 

“Yes, they’ve put a hold on visitation until further notice.”

 

“Wha – that’s not fair!”

 

Instead of raising his voice – or otherwise replying – like you imagined he would, Seto combed his fingers through his hair and let his upper body lay on the desk with his head pillowed in his arms in utter defeat.

 

Mokuba’s shoulders dropped. “I understand.” He moved to sit at the couch and kept to himself.

 

You walked over to the desk and placed your hands on Seto’s back, rubbing them up and down and over his shoulders. When he didn’t move to speak, you nestled your head against his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

 

He sighed. “I’m just tired.”

 

That was evident. “Is there something I can do to help?”

 

For a flash of a second he looked as if he was trying to make himself say something, as if it crossed his mind and he didn’t want to let it slip away. But all he did was smile and shake his head.

 

That had been over two weeks ago, and while he seemed to have relaxed since then, you could easily tell he was still very much worrying about something.

 

There simply wasn’t any need for it, you were sure. Because whatever it was, regardless of its importance, there wasn’t much he could do about it, and you hated when he worked himself up over things he couldn’t change. You knew how frustrated it made him, and that was something you hated watching.

 

Especially since the shenanigans of him coming in for coffee with a silent Mokuba and failing to make awkward small talk had continued. Neither you nor Tina had come up with valid explanations or theories, and the other coworkers didn’t care enough to notice anything.

 

Currently, the two of you were going over ideas for a theme party, to celebrate the upcoming one year anniversary of the café. You were thinking of a Western style tea party with Lolita style fashion. There was a drawing you’d done of a baby Blue-Eyes drinking tea with a white frilly top hat. Tina pursed her lips at the idea, not fully sold on it but not having a solid enough idea of her own to offer to the table.

 

Also, you were gossiping about home life.

 

“He’s doing at home now, too. And Mokuba looks more restless every day. He’s starting to look like Seto as much as he’s glaring at him.” You were making a copy of the café layout, wanting to preplan the decorations.

 

Tina was going over stock and profits at the counter behind the bar. “And he still won’t tell you anything?”

 

“No. And I think he knows I’m starting to get agitated.” You vaguely wondered about having the Kaiba Corp. logo sewn onto the uniform dresses. “Do you think we should come up with a new pastry? I’m thinking something flaky with jelly in it. And powdered sugar.” You jotted that down, then tapped the pen against your lip.

 

“If we do that we need to make a tea blend to go with it,” she offered, looking over her shoulder. “We’ve got that giant glass thing we could display it in, and keep it out front so the whole place smells nice.”

 

The reasons you kept the woman around. “Are we gonna do discounts on the new things?”

 

She laughed. “Only if we charge the fangirls extra.”

 

“Is that legal?”

 

“For you, that man could make anything legal.” Her smile was in the gutter, of course.

 

You made a few notes about teas and sketched out a new cupcake, those always sold fastest. “Do you think maybe he’s just nervous because of... you know...”

 

Tina filed away the paperwork and addressed the envelope. “The ‘I love you’ thing? I don’t know, I guess it’s not impossible. That just doesn’t seem like him, though, he’s too sure of himself, especially after he’s said something.”

 

That was very true. And didn’t help you at all.

 

“Well well,” she chimed. “Speak of the devil.”

 

You looked up, it was a white suit day, and Mokuba was already waiting patiently at the nearest table. In the midst of planning, you’d forgotten to put on a pot of coffee. “You don’t mind waiting, do you? I got busy,” you said, giving him your best sheepish smile.

 

He shook his head, and you noticed the way was fidgeting with his cufflinks. Nervous again.

 

But you didn’t ask, and had a pot brewing as soon as you finished writing your last thought. He was looking over your notes when you sat back down in your place at the counter. Tina was next to you.

 

“What is all this?”

 

You smiled, realizing you hadn’t run the idea by him yet. “Since this place has been open for almost a year, and I paid you back way early, I figured we’d do something special. A fancy tea party, so to speak.”

 

He immediately found your little Blue-Eyes doodle and pointed at it finitely. “Make it look less like a Toon and I’ll let you put up posters in the lobby.”

 

“Aww, you’re gonna help?” Of course he wasn’t going to do much other than grant permission, which wasn’t exactly necessary. But it was the thought that counted, and he believed he was helping.

 

He only grunted, and out of the corner of your eye you caught Mokuba watching with rigid intent. You ignored him.

 

“Did you send the corrections back to the patent attorney?” Not that you really cared much about it, you weren’t really involved, but you usually tried to help along the stagnant conversation.

 

Seto bit his lip. “I was supposed to send those out last week.”

 

“You forgot?” _You never forget. Anything._

 

He tipped his shoulders slightly. “I’ve been one track minded lately.”

 

That hadn’t been as obvious. “Is everything okay?”

 

There was hesitation, but he stopped worrying his lip long enough to ask you to come out from behind the counter. Mokuba perked up behind him without moving.

 

There weren’t many people in the café, a few employees on late breaks, the odd couple of lovebirds or friends. Not crowded, but not empty. Even so, it seemed a little public for what he was doing, considering how reserved he generally tried to be around other people.

 

He was rolling your hands over in his own, and very desperately trying not to look over your shoulder at Mokuba while he spoke quietly. Tina may or may not have been able to hear.

 

“I’m sorry, things have been weird lately.” His face wasn’t neutral, but it didn’t quite seem negative either. “The timing is just... off, I guess. It’s a lot to deal with all at once and I know you’ve noticed.”

 

At least he was aware that you were not so oblivious. “Of course I have, I’m just not sure exactly what it is that I’m noticing. It’s very not like you and I’m confused.” Your tone was lighthearted, he always appreciated that, and it made him smile a little.

 

“I’ve been...” he paused, thinking, “withholding something from you. Maybe I should’ve brought it up earlier, but I was afraid it would’ve been too much too soon.”

 

There’s literally so much he has neglected to tell you, perhaps it had something to do with those doctors that Mokuba had fussed about in the previous weeks. He’d been worrying about that a lot lately.

 

“I don’t want to say that there’s not much left you can surprise me with, but I don’t think it’s as big of a deal as you’re making it,” you encouraged, trying to get your eyes to soften enough for him to feel comfortable in continuing the conversation. Body language worked much better with him than words.

 

He let go of one of your hands and tucked his own into his pocket. “Unfortunately, it is, but that’s never stopped me before.”

 

Something told you that you were about to understand exactly what Mokuba meant, and it was about time. “Are you going to regret telling me?”

 

There was a pause, but it was thoughtful, and he answered only with a smile.

 

You expected a verbal explanation, most likely a small monologue in the way of a confession, which he’d done before. Get it all out at once to be judged at your mercy. That’s exactly what you didn’t get. All you got was a question. On one knee. With a familiar ring held at an exact angle between his fingers.

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

A few things happened at once in your haze of brief confusion. Your hands went cold, your shoulders tensed, your mouth went dry, and you began to shake ever so slightly. Tina’s ‘ _Oh my God_ ’ against the dead silence of the café brought you back to the situation. And somewhere in what were probably tears you choked out a ‘yes’ and ended up off your feet with your lips very much occupied.

 

The sound returned in a roar and for a second you thought people were screaming, but Mokuba was absolutely the loudest, and you realized everyone else was either clapping – the employees probably – or making some sort of verbal affirmation.

 

Tina was just making a lot of noise and waving her hands around. “I knew it! I _knew_ it!”

 

You wanted very much to tell her that if she really had known then she was horrible for keeping it to herself, but you were very quickly sandwiched between the two boys as Mokuba managed to wrap his arms around both of you, also making unintelligible happy noises.

 

Whether or not anyone else noticed, you did hear one exasperated sob of a heartbroken fangirl, and deep down, all you felt was _victory_.  You were a little petty, but you were far too excited to care. It would be a nice weight off everyone’s shoulders.

 

It was easy to get lost in him for a moment, having done it in the past to ease your nerves. You always picked up on smells first, and could picture in your head the bottle for the cologne he was wearing. You couldn’t remember the name of it, but you remembered it was your favorite. Then there was his suit, the white one was always cleaned separately and smelled like fresh cotton and lavender. You breathed in slow and deep, and concentrated on his warmth as you exhaled. Despite how cold his hands usually were, the rest of him was warm and soft, solid and strong, but so very inviting. And it made you remember, “Your coffee is done.”

 

He seemed to be just as lost as you were, but that was okay, because everything was okay. You were jittery with excitement and happiness, but you were also eased with the promise of stability and a final sense of belonging. There was nothing left to make you question your place, and that was what you were most grateful for.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner was at home that night, informal and personal. Roland and Ms. Ihara both joined you in the dining room upon Seto’s express invitation, which could not be refused. You enjoyed having them at dinner, even if Ms. Ihara fussed over her food the whole time, and Roland made a point to treat Seto like the nephew he was exceptionally proud of. Mokuba thought it was funny, you thought it was endearing.

 

Until Roland brought up a perfectly valid point. “You’ll have to learn to use some authority, now, you’ve got a bit of a responsibility.”

 

Seto turned away in mock agitation to stare at the wall.

 

“How do you mean?” You had some idea, but Roland seemed excited to tell you himself.

 

“Well, for starters, this won’t be overlooked. Everyone will know, and that means you’ll be getting a great deal more attention. You’ll have to hold a certain aura about yourself, otherwise people won’t take you seriously,” he explained, having already finished his plate. “Mokuba’s already squandered that.”

 

The aforementioned looked up and scowled.

 

“Oh come on,” you said, “I’m not going to be _that_ involved, I don’t work for him.”

 

Seto snorted beside you.

 

Roland shook his head. “On the contrary, you work _with_ him now. You’ll have to be trained to handle official business, it won’t do for people to think you’re a pushover. You may not be in charge, but you will represent the face of Kaiba Corporation, and that’s an important responsibility.”

 

That had been enough for Seto to pipe back up. “Are you _trying_ to run her off?”

 

Roland laughed. “Of _course_ not, you know how worried some of your business partners have been, and I don’t think you could’ve done better.” You watched Seto’s ears turn red as Roland continued. “I just don’t want the whole thing to come as a surprise to her, we all know you haven’t mentioned anything.”

 

But something new interested you. “What were business partners worried about? And why does that involve me?”

 

Roland smiled very widely, and gestured to your now fiancé sitting next to you. “Would you like to tell her?”

 

“It’s too soon, do _not_.”

 

You looked at Roland expectantly, who very happily obliged.

 

“While Mr. Kaiba is still young for the business, the world knows he won’t live forever, but there’s been a lot of investment put into what he’s built. So, naturally, they expect an heir to take over, and... well...” He trailed off, but the smile never went away.

 

However, yours did. “They can kiss my ass.”

 

And the subject was promptly dropped. Although, Roland did continue to enlighten you on some of your new responsibilities, which, after about twenty minutes, Seto made an excuse to shut him up. You and Mokuba were sent to the theater room for movie night, and when Ms. Ihara brought in hot chocolate it was the last time you saw her for before she turned in.

 

Mokuba had fallen asleep by the end of the movie, and as per usual, you and Seto were still awake as the credits scrolled, and talked quietly.

 

“You know he was exaggerating.”

 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t mind even if he wasn’t.”

 

“You wouldn’t?”

 

“No. It’ll be work, but it’ll be worth it,” you said, leaning into him. You could feel his warm breath against your cheek.

 

He hummed softly. “Good, because I’d like to keep you.” You shivered as his lips hovered against your ear. “Mrs. Kaiba.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTICE: What happens in part three is up to YOU. I'm not quite sure where I want the focus to be, kids or having the reader explore the Egypt plot a little. I mean, it'll have both, but I'd like you all to decide where the focus is. Please comment and let me know!  
> Also, part 3 starts off a few months later, and there's things that happen in between that I may or may not set aside as their own short side fic, but I'll have that decided before anything else is posted, just fyi.


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